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.



2 comments:

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