Life is a race, They say so often. A race that doesn’t ends upon a podium, Rather ends in a coffin. The clock is ticking,…
Tag: poetry
Larger than you imagine and fragile as a crystal ball, Whispering between the petals, it can be a bug so small. Invisible, nor can be…
the ticking of the clock, as the hour hand reaches midnight. a new beginning takes birth somewhere, under the same sky and amidst same site.…
With stick in my hand and A few grey hairs left, I came in my garden and Sat on a bench to rest. My grandkids…
once there was a man, and he had a family to sustain. he did everything he can, and strangely, never felt any sorrow or pain.…