Wednesday, May 17, 2006

in wait of rejection

They call me coward.
As I stand in the bylines
And sigh and sob
And make many such futile noises
Of frustration.
Of loneliness.
Of may be even relief.
For to approach
To get off that cold slab on which
I sit,
And approach
What is seemingly
Will bring smiles,
At last at the seeming
lack of my inhibitions,
on the faces of
all my detractors
and they may even laugh
at my failure to bring home
what seemed out of reach.
even now that I stand in front of you.
And you look at me,
Or through,
Or past me.
And I pray.
(My eyes shut)
Let me off kindly
For I will never again take this same road,
For I am a coward.


mizfit said... what inspired u to write this?

L>T said...

I hate to admit I understand that poem.

Anonymous said...

Vivaha Bhojanambu
Vintaina Vantakambu
Viyyala vari vindu
Ahahha Nakey Mundu

Howz that for a comment! Just goin bonkers as I ended up in d office when I wanted to take leave....

As for the poem, is the slab cool?

Anonymous said...

duh! u already mentioned its cold...

OK! Take the road less travelled.

uglygirl said...

duh! Vantakambu.

slab is cold and sometimes so am i.
and sometime so should you you know.

Sol said...

::forces a smile::
this one hit raw nerves..