deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Idea
His strength, from the constant neglect,
has been so beaten, that he cannot trudge
any further. It seems he won’t earn respect
from a brainless brain, too stubborn to budge.
As he creeps outside his cell, head hanging down,
the bodies of the deceased, the forgotten thoughts
who have rotten away, who never made a sound,
lay lifelessly, forever enchained to their spots.
Only at times, the light of the outside
shines. Hopeful rays filling the shaded space,
giving the faintest feel, a sense of pride,
that today, the world will now be his place.
has been so beaten, that he cannot trudge
any further. It seems he won’t earn respect
from a brainless brain, too stubborn to budge.
As he creeps outside his cell, head hanging down,
the bodies of the deceased, the forgotten thoughts
who have rotten away, who never made a sound,
lay lifelessly, forever enchained to their spots.
Only at times, the light of the outside
shines. Hopeful rays filling the shaded space,
giving the faintest feel, a sense of pride,
that today, the world will now be his place.
Published 6th Feb 2015
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