Category: Written in 2020

If

Published on by Harpreet ChhachhiaLeave a comment

If roses lived long,
Would they be called flowers?

If vows were trusted,
Would one count down the hours?

If the seed wasn’t yours,
Would you get to reap it?

If love had a price,
Would I pay to keep it?

Flight Of No Return

Published on by Harpreet ChhachhiaLeave a comment

I’m sick and tired of feeling sad,
Find random meds that can be had
To get rid of this sordid pain,
To end feeling it like this again.

Maybe cut veins and watch them bleed,
Though would one pain make the other recede?
Why does a face still hold power in me:
Undying love abating futility?

I’ve no need to look on life and smile
It long since had ceased to beguile.
It’s not even passion that boasts a loss –
It’s intimacy, hanging from some cross.
After an age-old, bitter longing for it,
To have it shredded bit by bit.

Shame and embarrassment soon follow
And form such bitter cum to swallow.
It makes me sick.

And covid is scary!
Being more alone makes me more than wary!

I have nothing left, not even my pride;
It seems to have gone for a long ride:
A flight, into another galaxy of stars,
With all of love, hope and their bars.

Fresh out of relationships, I burn;
And no longer wait for their return.

The World Is Breaking

Published on by Harpreet ChhachhiaLeave a comment

Hungry stomachs grow hungrier,
Pan viruses are breath-taking;
Polar bears come down to garbage,
While the world is slowly breaking.

The ones with faith have but words,
The poor have no hope to live,
The brave are led by the cunning,
Sometime, something had to give.

Politics plays games with rape and death,
People are lost enough to believe;
No soul remains for any devil,
All love agrees to deceive.

Gadgets confuse and rob all feeling,
Flowers have no voice for any thing;
Painters have grown to the abstract,
Singers have but sadness to bring.

Poets once saw a beautiful world,
But it is now not of their making;
The future lies warming on glaciers,
While the world is slowly breaking.