Poem Hunter
(1-7-1959 / india)


Man lives with hope,
And dies with hope,
Hope is a thing,
For all the wings.

Pain and pleasure,
Dotting phases of leisure,
Some are born to smile and enjoy,
Others with miseries and die like toys.

Hope is a deceiver and racist,
In thy world apartheid exists,
It is false and hollow,
Few smiles but many dies like flies,

World is a big crematorium,
Here mind and heart cease to work.
Where every body struggles for hope,
But majority perishes unblessed.

Parched lips and hollow belly,
Leave no space to lay in peace.
Death embraces them before date,
Uncared, unloved and unwanted.

O! Almighty God, bring out the funeral,
Of racism, quota, and reservation.
Bless all with merit,
And fulfill the dying Hope.


User Rating: 4,9 / 5 ( 7 votes ) 8

Other poems of SHARMA (618)

Comments (8)

An insightful philosophical reflection written with clarity of thought and mind. A work of an intricate mind. Thanks for sharing and do remain enriched.
Hope is an anchor to many and you write with a fine understanding of all the reasons that hope should be the treasure of all.... well presented verse.
this one is good!
Nice prayer on hope,10+
Powerful and indepth piece. Hope can mean many things for many ppl, your words are displayed with great emotions and touching insights.
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