The story ends without The end,
the game ends without the last whistle;

Silence starts killing the mocking bird,
whose voices were heard from the way back;

Never to stop wondering why,
my life made me sorry to feel,

Made me smile, but on the reel,
cry, but in real;

Ignorant people kept their life in smokes,
and then called it life’s a smoky issue;

My hands are, but tied,
by the minds that are not with time;

Sorry to say my poems being one sad,
but to talk,  then tell me who’s life has been so glad;

People say things so as to make you stop in life,
and you agree that;

But when your own people fight against your style and,
try to kill that one guide in you;

You are left with no light,
as darkness will fill your shine;

Sorry to say, again i say,
but here might life make me go wide,
among my types and amongst my kind.



  1. You have written some serene yet powerful lines. Very nice poetry. I love the colors on your site-very calming.My best wishes to you.

    1. thanks for it ashwin, hope to get more inputs from you regarding my blog. that’s the only source of inspiration for me writing more.

  2. I read your poetry and think ‘a life so different from mine’ and I am grateful for having the chance to part the curtain for a glimpse into your world. Thank you for that! And thank you for the support of my blog. Namaste!

    1. Sure, it’s wonderful to see people getting close through words written or spoken, i liked your blog too and wish you also like my other poems. Thank you.

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