Sunday, December 29, 2013

The most beautiful flower

The park bench was deserted as I sat down to read, 
Beneath the long, straggly branches of an old willow tree, 
Disillusioned by life with good reason to frown, 
For the world was intent on dragging me down, 

And if that weren't to ruin my day, 
A young boy out of breath approached me, all tired from play, 
He stood right before me with his head tilted down, 
And said with great excitement, 'Look what I found! '

In his hand was a flower, and what a pitiful sight, 
With its petal worn-not enough rain, or too little light, 
Wanting him to take his dead flower and go off to play, 
I faked a smile and then shifted away, 

But instead of retreating he sat next to my side, 
And placed the flower to his nose and declared with overacted surprise, 
'It sure smells pretty and it's beautiful too, 
That's why I picked it; here, it's for you, '

The weed before me was dying or dead, 
Not vibrant of colours, orange yellow or red, 
But I knew I must take it, or he might never leave, 
So I reached for the flower, and replied, 'Just what I need, '

But instead of him placing the flower in my hand, 
He held it midair without reason or plan, 
It was then that I noticed for the very first time, 
That weed-toting boy could not see: he was blind, 

I heard my voice quaver, tears shone like the sun, 
As I thanked him for picking the very best one, 
'You're welcome, ' he smiled, and then ran off to play, 
Unaware of the impact he'd had on my day, 

I sat there and wondered how he managed to see, 
A self-pitying guy beneath an old willow tree, 
How did he know of my self-indulged plight? 
Perhaps from his heart, he'd been blessed with true sight, 

Through the eyes of a blind child, at last I could see, 
The problem wasn't the world; the problem was me, 
And for all of those times I myself had been blind, 
I vowed to see the beauty in life, and appreciate every second that's mine, 

And then I held that wilted flower up to my nose, 
And breathed in the fragrance of a beautiful rose, 
And smiled as I watched that young boy, another weed in his hand, 
About to change the lives of an unsuspecting young couples! 

-- by Fathmath Sana

Thursday, May 16, 2013

I wish I could sing again...

I wish I could untangle my dilemmas with the songs again
Could write down a poetry and dance in the rain

I wish i could stop being so sane
and once more live life carefree and insane

I wish i become wishful again
fly in my fantasy on my paper plane

I wish I could write a poetry again
I wish I could dance in the rain

I wish i could see with my own eyes again
could throw away the glasses that came along with being sane

I wish I could dream having kids with my girl of fantasy again
I hate it when i dumped her and never called her back again

How much we loved each other ever since we met in our childhood fantasies
I would rush to my terrace in the middle of night and talk to her like crazies

I wish I could just get my life again
I could sing and dance in the rain

Smiley Smiley Smiley Smiley Smiley

Thursday, February 21, 2013

Talaash

Talaash raha hu ae zindagi tujhe zindagi mein
kisi ki bandagi mein, kisi ki dillagi mein
kisi ki muskarahaton mein , kisi ki chahto mein


Chuppha raha hu ae zindagi tujhe zindagi se
khudi ki khwahisho se, khudi ki hasraton se
khudi ki uljhano se, khudi ki masoomiyat se

Bata raha hu ae zindagi tujhe zindagi ke jeene ka sabab
kuchh khudke kuchh uske aur kuch sabke liye