Monday, December 8, 2008


They pour sand in my hair
and fill my shoes with stones
to make me heavy

like many I too grab
the grass and try to float
but my fingers slip

they refuse my pleas for
a rope or staff to help
me drift in current

they wish me to become
with facial epitaph
my own tomb


1 comment:

pasuG said...

very good posts sir.

esp. haiku on christmas eve, petals,

[this is exactly my case too...society always pulls one down and laughs for it to exist, whilst we struggle to become performers],navy cadets,

pls see my blogs also.
and tell ur views.

i am at