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Monday, May 11, 2009

The Balloon


Red Rubbery Balloon,
Fuelled with air, In and Out,
Bouncing, Jumping, Flying,
Without any bound..

Tethered to a string,
Pulled by a hand,
It follows and floats,
A Servile Living.

Bright and vigorous,
Retorts always, never retreats,
Bursting at its seams,
healthy as can be.

Time catches Up,
Air oozes out,
Or, just the seams hold no more,
It falls from grace, it deflates,

Slowly fades away,
With a Dying wish,
that someone again,
kisses and blows in life,
and brings it back
to its Springy Ways. . .



2 comments:

Khushi said...

Awwe godie... this is classy :)
Poetry is not always words,it's an art of substantiating shadows :)
apram, poetry is what the soul wants,it's infinite sound that taunts,it's strength of ones spirit,it's the powerful truth within it,it's love and hate,
it's what makes you stop wait and appreciate,it's put up randomly, well, poetry is simply poetry :)

A nice one, after a long time :)
I respect writers.
cheers
Khushi :)

Yogesh Goel said...

helloz friend...

nice website with good poems..
even i write poems or say i used to write when i was in love...lol...

ur collection is good..

i liked the header of ur website...
i simply love pics of eyes..

keep it up...

tke cre
b well..
Yogesh
ygoel.com