Thursday, October 26, 2006

He Made Me a Poet


What could be better!
Meeting him, itself was great.
Knowing was different matter.
Loving was more precious.
But not being loved in return,
Was most profitable of all.
As he made me little saner,
He showed me,
The world ,that is not fair.

Loving him was great experience,
I need to put this in my C.V.
I loved a man,
Who didn't love me in return.
He made me a philosopher,
Above all, he made me a poet.

Since then,
The words became my friends.
However,
Pain remains, just the same.

1 comment:

  1. Neeti's Comment in this poem

    I don’t remember at present, what had caused me to write this poem. But, what I feel is that one cannot become a poet, unless one experiences an intense pain. It is difficult to write poems when u r happy, when one is content. That is why, we do not find much happy poems in this world. Looking at the history of the poets in the world, we find that, failure in their love had in fact turned them into poet.

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