Tuesday, January 10, 2006

It's very late, and I'm very sleepy, but I don't feel like sleeping

Everything's gone,
Lost or left

And there's just dust,
Blood and sweat

That remain
All else is pain

Stripped of pride
You wish you'd died
But you survived

To live in isolation
Doomed to try

And regret
But never forget

What is the secret?

6 Comments:

Blogger Siddhartha Banerjee said...

Nice poem...sometimes it's more fun to write them if they don't mean anything, just for the sake of the sound of it.

There actually are junta who write poetry with more of an eye to the structure and sounds rather than the meaning as such. For an extreme example, check this out(http://www.cs.rice.edu/~ssiyer/minstrels/poems/492.html),

10/1/06 10:40 AM

 
Anonymous Anonymous said...

The secret lies
in the so-called magic
of life, which makes us smile
even when everything seems tragic.

We always try
To live, to smile, to win
Sometimes we regret, sometimes forget
But life' s happy that we atleast did begin.

If you think
That nothing's left at all
and even death has been denied away
Think again, there's atleast something still, though small.

10/1/06 11:46 AM

 
Blogger N David said...

MUHAHAHAHAHAHA.. now after two comments, this sound does have some meaning.

10/1/06 12:20 PM

 
Blogger Robert Frust said...

[bofi] thanks.

[taru] didn't get it, sorry. was just having fun, basically. :)

[kd] :)gm

18/1/06 6:46 PM

 
Blogger Phoenix said...

that's so unexpected of u.
upto u, though. u disappoint me

19/1/06 11:54 AM

 
Anonymous Anonymous said...

blogging for pleasure.. let us write anything we feel like. This is typical fare from you.. i mean poems of this format are periodic occurence for your blog. you do have a talent for creating gloomy imagery.

20/1/06 7:23 AM

 

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