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A Collection Of Poems

Sharanya Sudarshan


A newborn going missing today,

Another girl trying to hide away.

One more woman being tortured to death,

One more girl fighting till her last breath.

He taught the world peace, security and harmony,

What has now become of it, is quite a tragedy.

From being tormented to gagged and harassed, she saw it all,

She raised her voice but the gunshot muted the whole brawl.

She is no lesser than a man,

She possesses the ability to fight back with her clan.

She continues to fight till this day

In a world filled with ruining, wrecking and ravaging,

Unable to see the light of the day.

Having been judged by society many a time,

Embracing her true self was classified a crime.

Running away while longing for freedom,

Only to be brought back home and beaten.

She is a mother, daughter, sister and much more.

Clothes, hair and looks do not define her.

Modesty and purity are only part of ancient lore,

Now it's time to give her the love and respect she truly deserves.


It was twilight when he looked up at the sky,

Twinkling stars in the ether, he could spy.

Lost in his thoughts, he continued to gaze,

Wearied by life, all the problems he faced.

The stars were soon enveloped by the clouds

Meanwhile, his thoughts reverberated loud.

The sky blanketed in shades of grey,

Just like his thoughts, much to his dismay.

With a plan for the future ready at the back of his head,

Remembering all the memories of the people about whom he cared.

A life full of bliss, but he had one regret,

He did not bid goodbye to the soul he'd never forget.

The sky cleared again, with the breeze blowing strong,

Looking at the North star, nothing could ever go wrong.

His eyes remained glued to the star which was at its best,

For it was the night he had to lay his mother to rest.

The Woman On The Platform

Boarding my train at 5 past 4,

I noticed a woman sobbing on the platform floor.

I tried to help but the train began to start,

When I was joined by my squaddies John and Carl.

A day before the Chief received the call,

The enemies were approaching, it was the time of war.

On reaching we headed straight for the guns,

We knew we couldn't return until we took them down,

one by one.

It was a day filled with dismay and agony

As both John and Carl had been put down.

We managed to decimate the adversary,

But the tremendous loss of lives only led to tragedy.

Along with a bruised face I returned home,

As I saw the lady on the platform sitting all alone.

She sat there with a gloomy look,

I went up to her but she neither spoke nor shook.

I saw the brown wallet on her left thigh,

Her eyes bespoke revenge and face evinced the word 'goodbye'.

The wallet contained nothing but a dusty photograph,

and that was of my squaddie, Carl Evans Ralph.

To Sell A Smile

Strolling across a dense woodland,

I noticed a hamlet next to the river bank.

I needed a spot to rest my weary feet,

So I sat outside a house among the hamlet's trees.

There she was, walking out of one of the houses

Which were a part of that same village.

Carrying nothing but baskets, after untying the cows,

Much intrigued, I followed her as she started treading

towards the hill.

Her clothes were torn, feet extremely dry,

The green of her eyes shone when she looked at the sunny sky.

She looked at me for a second as she reduced her pace,

Then glanced at me with nothing but a smile on her face.

She walked, so I kept following her

Up the steep path with no sign of humans near.

She plucked a bunch of berries from the trees up there,

Hoping to sell them and get her family meat or bread.

She suddenly started walking down the path,

While she looked back at me and spoke

Something I couldn't make much of.

She then pointed towards a sort of distant road

And started walking again, so I continued to follow.

We ultimately reached the road

After walking a lengthy distance.

She immediately put the berries down,

And then only patiently waited.

The road was bustling and busy, and it was almost dusk,

Yet not a single fellow passing by was convinced to buy the bulk.

So she got up from there with nothing but a basket filled with berries,

And then strolled back home, with a face much gloomy.

I tried to help, but was out of money,

Yet she gave me a handful of berries to feed my famished tummy.

A one, not much privileged yet so jovial,

While we long for materialistic things, just like prodigals.

She looked back at me one last time,

Then began to walk away,

She managed to bring back home nothing that day

Apart from the smile she was able to bring to my face.


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