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This is not a poem its my life

My life...its an unfinished poem
imperfect picture ugly truth
I am writing but my pen is out of ink
I am painting but my canvas is dirty
i cant sing throat is sore
I can't see eyes are all red
Salt storm of hardships weakening my eyes
Still strong in the hope a sweet scented breeze.
Will it come????
I cannot live much I try
I love life
that much I lose life
that much God hate me
Lift these veils
Too late i think
Its time to leave or time to reach
I'm going
for the search of immortality
immortality of soul
Yes behind death...longing to reach there....

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This article has 2 comments. Post your own!

sarah.small18This teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. said...
Oct. 18, 2012 at 9:35 am:
I like it. It's different.
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AnandhuKrishna said...
Mar. 30, 2012 at 1:59 pm:

comment plz


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