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962: Its Pain Not Poetry
AB Amit Biswas (6th January,1960. / West Bengal, India)

962: Its Pain Not Poetry

Poet, I was not meant to be,
Pain and despair drove me to,
What I wasn’t ever to be
Desired to own a mirage, which told me,
She wasn’t one, but a real collage.

But her reality eluded her,
She succumbed and turned unreal,
Dumb I stood, my love splattered all around,
But she wasn’t there to help me anymore,
Could not collect myself back, gone was my amour.

Its ok, I accept, hurt I remain, unlikely to heal,
Let forgiveness come soon, before I can forget.,
Me, my memory and my grace of forgiveness,
Are in a race, I wish I won.

User Rating: 5,0 / 5 ( 2 votes ) 4

Comments (4)

Yes, Amit! We all will win this race.... Pain v/s Poetry...... Poetry always wins!
From the title I was expecting some sort of 'pity-me' narrative. Instead I find a narrative flowing with some moving - sometimes, touching- imagery. This is a beautiful piece and is structured very well.
Maybe you were meant to be a great poet and it was destiny... The best poetry comes out either when you are at the pinnacle of love or at the nadir. Good one TO
Again i am at a loss for apt words.... cry not your heart out she is forever gone blown by winds of change far out of your reach forever your heart is broken n bleeding your soul stolen and scattered but... your mind and intellect your spirit and your body albeit dust still remains... what can you do? but continue to breathe though each breath hurts your chest till dust turns to dust and perhaps you are gifted release?