Sunday, April 17, 2011

Absolute Obsolete

You wouldn't find my trace,
you wouldn't remember my face,
Things have changed so fast
Life aint nothing but obsolete with a patch of past.
If you were to even understand where I stand,
it would be miles before you can grab my hand
Things move so fast in here
even before you realise i will be gone from here.
Sanity is begging for help
while I look around i find despair
there ain't any hope to see things fall in place
everything is just simmering apart with a cut deep down
which will bleed without any death noun.


Sankoobaba said...

pain described with such honest brutality..
makes the reader feel the pain..
some people say dont run behind the rhymes..focus just on the meaning..
i disagree
sometimes to find rhyming words..
sentences have to be twisted and phrases need to be invented..
without rhymes there is no fun or beauty in a poem..
"which will bleed without any death noun"

that was Avant-garde ..
good poem..keep it up..

Pooja said...

Thanks as always