by Shisir Pokahrel
(Kathmandu, Nepal)
I want to be a child
Who don't care a cent for life
And try to dare all the fear of the life
I want to think like a child
I want to act like a child
Whose life is fine! Fine as wine?
You may give them your love but not your thoughts.
For them they have their own thoughts.
They are like the arrow which is released from the bow
And don?t know where to go.
That unhappy childhood's terror
So easy to repair.
They had freedom to run, fall, and climb big trees
Soaking wet socks, over their knees.
Those moments were like heaven on earth.
Where nothing is expensive, at no cost.
When I was little
I knew nothing of the world,
I dreamed of butterflies and birds
Now I am grown up.
I feel like autumn after the spring.
I feel like scarecrow who is tired of standing in his lonely field.
I measure every grief I meet
With questioning eyes;
I wonder if it weighs like mine,
Or has an easier size.
I pray to the god for transfiguring me back.
Giving back my childhood
Where I used live for my own good.
No comments:
Post a Comment