When I was a little boy
I looked out my bedroom
window when it rained,
snowed, or when the
I waited by the window
to see if my friends
were playing outside
and if springtime
I looked out the window
that my image
is still embedded
in the pane of glass.
the sky opens before me, revealing the answers to the questions i have asked many times
i step forward, ready to split myself open and reveal the light within me that always shines
my eyes scan the sea of humans before me and i cannot help but notice the confusion and the stress
they are constantly worried about what they can change yet think of themselves less and less
what is this game we have fallen into and can we beat it?
because i don’t want to come back again, i don’t want to repeat it
the wind blows my hair across my eyes, but my vision is not clouded
for i see the countless of people terrified, their happiness is always shrouded
the darkness is not something to fear, as it is only the absence of light
when we wake up and open our eyes, we will then see…
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My mom and I have written a poem together! You guys have read my poems and you know what my style of writing is. This time, I decided to share with you a poem which my mother and I have written together! I am so excited to know what you guys think of our collective effort!
The stanzas in blue are my mom’s and the ones in black are mine. We’ve written the stanzas alternatingly, the first being mine, next being hers and so on (additional information if the colour isn’t showing up.).
The Golden Canvas
By Prerna and Meher Gandhi
I have been wandering in this forest alone,
Have traversed every puddle, every stone.
All the lights and crowds I’ve seen,
The desert is where I’ve never been.
It seems the path is taken less,
Or is it for the one to assess?
The lonesome stream, the hollow pit,
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