I was reading a blog from Rae where she said how difficult it was to come up with blogs often and I have to agree with her.. For me it is my past which I am sharing here most of the time. Easy huh? Yeah, it is all there ready only to be typed and posted but only thing is it takes a lot of courage for me to come out with it at times...
On a dark night my mother gave me birth
And brought me forth to crawl on roughened earth
Once I was in a protective, warm womb
Suddenly I found myself crying in a bright tomb
I observed with misty eyes, faces full of smiles
With a lame leg I feared walking lengthy miles
Yet I stopped wailing and stood up to face tomorrow
Now I saw those smiling eyes were dipped in sorrow
Tell me my Lord, why I had to be born
Just to thread on paths strewn with thorns?
Shall I thank you for this life which is dear?
Or can I blame you ‘O’ Lord for putting me here?
Why? Oh why am I thrown into this mess?
Scared am I, scared by this haunting selfishness
Every minute I struggle and struggle again to survive
Easy it is to be born but tough to stay alive
Do you see just because I was born lame
They play dirty games but am I to blame?
How did you offer me these sips so bitter?
Does your heart enjoy when I have to slither?
Oh! Come on now, you don’t have a heart
Or else my life wouldn’t be so tart
I am disturbed by the eyes filled with lust
I have learnt a hard way, is ‘Lie’ is a must
I tried to be good and lost my fight father
My anger, rudeness or sobs did not help either
I am being pecked by vile human vultures
Scared am I, scared of their in-hidden natures
Many of them ‘O’ Lord, of goodness wear a mask
Knowing their true nature is very tough task
I learn a lesson everyday, yet I am so ignorant
I don’t get to come up world what is important
Though unsafe, I have to move on with the clock
My fortunes or misfortunes door I have to knock
Though I have hopes, many hands hold blanket
When I smell something fishy, there is tap on my claret
I am made to bite my tongue whenever I speak the truth
The word ruthless has survived, dead is the word ruth
I served love only to get indignation as tips
Now even my smile weeps for it has lost my lips
My heart is broken. Why was it made of glass?
O God! Why didn’t you give me a heart of better class?
What can I do now with the life you gave?
Even my freedom is murdered because it was brave
I am not strong enough to come out and be free
Yet I cannot stand in a place for I am not a tree
Sure I will never throw away the life you gave
I will live and live till I am shut in my grave
Even then like a seed which spouts into a tree
I may sprout again if you allow me a spree.