(Title Undecided) [CrWr]

[Writer's note:
This poem was written when I was in twelfth grade, working towards getting into a good engineering college. The tough competition and pressure to perform sometimes used to get very frustrating. This is one of the creative vents of those negative emotions.
I'm still awaiting suggestions for a good title. Which reminds me that the credit for the titles for most of my works go to my wonderful friend Rasadhika Sharma, aka Kid.]


I kick, I yell, I shout, I scream,
O God, why isn’t this just an ugly dream?
My future drowns in fire,
My life burns in a pyre,
To my rescue comes no fairy nor elf,
What do I do when I’m angry at myself?

I know I can, yet I won’t.
The world is amazed why I won’t.
(Did God invest in me, this talent for nought?
What good is a war, a war never fought?)
Yet to my rescue comes no fairy nor elf,
What do I do when I’m angry at myself?

Am I waiting for when it’s too late?
Isn’t a glorious future, good enough bait?
Opportunity is knocking, too busy am I.
Life’s zipping past, but here waiting am I.
But to my rescue comes no fairy nor elf,
What do I do when I’m angry at myself?

Wake up, girl, that was indeed a dream:
What you thought poison, is actually cream.
Only sweet nectar, there’s no evil brew.
Wake up now to what is true.
A visitor is knocking, get up Miss Poetess:
“I’m here to be yours, my name Success.”

Finally I’ve reached, and well in time,
And spared some to sit and rhyme!
Neither words nor music express my elation,
Far gone by are the days of desperation.
My saviour not a fairy, nor an elf,
But Presence of the Lord, and belief in self!


[The positive ending, as of then was just a hope. Thankfully today I actually am where I wanted to be in terms of engineering colleges, among much else. :)]




(March 2008)