Tag: mypoem

The Circus Clown

Published on by Harpreet ChhachhiaLeave a comment

Making the same mistake over again,
Leaves me hardly any room to complain.
Admitted that I have wounds to relieve,
Self worth that never fails to deceive,
A hope that never seems to fall to defeat,
Or opposed needs that could ever meet
The passion, that raises an ironic head,
While intelligence leaves its bed.

I fall for a sweet word mumbled in dry tones,
Via uncaring lips or vacuous telephones;
I fall for a kind look and lovely hair,
I forget the rendering and the despair.

I fall to rise again like a circus clown
I just can’t seem to learn to stay down.
I fall.

It is like a roller coaster ride:
So filled with thrills I cannot deride.

Words are so beautifully spoken
I hear them despite them being broken.
But, though I’m tired of falling, I see it clear:
My fears, though numb, are almost dear,
As if that hope I had, now, has clawed deep
And being awakened shall never sleep.

In mistakes then, it shall seek a solace,
That never stays in one time or one place.
So on I blunder, and get held by warm lies,
And truth shall fail, no matter how it tries
To make sense of the world that is now mine,
That knows joy for rare, brief seconds of time.

The Moon, an Anger and a Sadness

Published on by Harpreet ChhachhiaLeave a comment

The Anger suddenly builds!
There’s no way to let it out.
Who would I let it out on:
On Him, on Fact, on Me, on Doubt?

I have spent the Sadness
All that I had to give,
Now I burst with Anger
That doesn’t want to forgive.

The Moon laughs at me,
She who I know so well;
How this story will end,
Even she can foretell.

I turn away from her, too,
She who has been a friend;
She is no longer someone
On whom I can depend.

Like most of the hearts
To whom I gave my love,
She lies far away,
In an unreachable above.

I have nothing to offer,
I have nothing more to say,
When heartbreak comes calling,
I’ll let him have his way.

I had such hopes,
Such hopes had I,
I had tried so hard,
How hard I still try;

But it all comes to nought,
I have no more of me to give,
So all I can do is love,
All I get to do is live.

I am angry for a reason;
But reasons are no excuse;
No one wishes to learn;
Everyone has their own views.

I ramble on and I rant and rave,
I have tried it all, you see;
I am angry now, but in a while,
I’ll bear each end willingly.

What I Know

Published on by Harpreet ChhachhiaLeave a comment

I have been here before;
I have slept on this floor;
I have counted each vein,
Left on windows by rain;
Spoken words echo through;
Each remind me of you
And you and you and you;
I don’t doubt all were true,
When you said them to me;
They filled this room, silently;
They seeped into these walls;
Each one of them recalls
How they filled a lost heart;
And stayed to never part;
But you did;
And I hid.

I left this place of hope;
I left this place to cope,
With what was left to me,
Quite silently.
I walk back now,
With a wiser brow,
And a sharper eye,
With no need to try
To weigh my mistakes.
(I thought there were none.)

I do not blame you;
Neither this soft view,
Through the window pane,
Against fresh soft rain
That is so known; yet
Such that I forget
Why I hid long ago
From this slept-on floor.