Scope

Posted on Posted in Poet's Corner

They told me it is a beautiful world,
And this is a beautiful dream.
Eyes painted with hurt,
And I heard them scream.
What’s the scope?

Father tells us tales about good,
The bad were never understood.
Then I wondered why he told us about good?
When the good is so far away from where it should.
What’s the scope?

There she was,
Asking me to lend her a black dress.
Her fiancé lies in the room,
In the casket, he died a wonderful groom.
What’s the scope?

I hope they find ink somewhere to write,
To complete their incomplete stories and fights.
Because we stood together for all of them.
The achy voice and the fearful glum.
What’s the scope?

Staring at the ceiling,
Fighting with the feelings.
City imprisoned by fear so was I.
The city fell asleep crying so did I.
What’s the scope?

What’s the scope?
The hope and the faith,
The love that never fades
The time that is worth a while
To end this and wrathful night
What’s the scope?


Poem by

Anonymous

Featured Image :

Neha Sharma

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