The Death…

It’s a poem on a mother,
It’s a story of a lover;
She was a person
Of vested interests,
Not confined to her pleasure...

Not a single son or daughter of hers,
Could live without their mother...
All of them cried the day after
When she left this world forever...

U know never of her life ends,
But she thought it the day before;
U can’t see what’s up in her mind...
But you come to know only when she goes...


The way it feels when a person leaves,
Is the way when you can’t ever imagine...
The way it goes is the stop of blood,
Between a million arteries.

Thus and thus no cure to death,
Of a person has ever come...
Hope sometime to invent one,
Of a kind to make life some more...

by Rishikesh R Ranga

Other poems of RANGA (7)

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