falloutfemale

MEMORIES

The noise of those bells,

Still ring deep in my ears.

I wish those never-ending stairs of the Temple,

Appear in front of my hungry eyes.

The taste of my grandmother’s food,

Still tingles down my throat.

Those faces flash through the memories,

Of my deep dark childhood of Wonders and fantasies.

The rivers that were meant to wash away the sins,

Are now far away from my house.

Those rivers are now seven seas apart,

Way beyond the boundary of my limits.

The most beautiful part of the entire memory was,

When I won first prize in a poetry contest.

The entire crowd cheered for me,

Like the sound of a tidal wave

Rushing towards the surfer.

Giving chills in my backbone,

Yet thrilling like my first ride in the roller coaster.

If there was a world that was dedicated to me,

It would be my homeland which is rock hard to forget.

Some days are just blue and dark here,

Until I think of my family back home.

Whenever we took out some time to meet them,

Their welcome for us is warm.

The greetings and the love feel so gorgeous,

Like a mother’s hug to a newborn baby.

My homeland was difficult to leave,

Extremely difficult when tears were shed like rivers that had no end.

But we had to leave to begin the journey,

Which was suppose to make things perfect.

CONTINUED….

IMPRESSIONS.(SECOND PART OF THE POEM – “MEMORIES”).

Oh, what a shame

Oh, what a shame,

We did not see this coming.

Everything here was extremely worse,

Than what we left back in out homeland.

Mom and Dad look for job and they we find,

Is a heard of non-believers.

Who thinks that these certificates,

Are fake and faulty like my dreams.

It’s a shame that the hard work,

And those nights my parents spent studying.

Were meant nothing but a paper that they recycle,

Day by day.

But those papers and certificates,

Were like a road to a new beginning.

These hopes and dreams were like horror,

Yet we didn’t stop and gave in.

We shall move on till we live,

And we shall work till we die.

Just to make the best,

Of the tears that we cry.

Picture Poem:  The Tear

http://tinypic.com/view.php?pic=4brpmjc

-Khyati Gupta