I Cry Sometimes Whe

I Cry Sometimes Whe
I Cry
Sometimes When I''m Alone
I Cry,
Cause I Am On My Own.
The Tears I Cry Are Bitter And Warm.
They Flow With Life But Take No Form
I Cry Because My Heart Is Torn.
I Find It Difficult To Carry On.

If I Had An Ear To Confiding,
I Would Cry Among My Treasured Friend,
But Who Do You Know That Stops That Long,
To Help Another Carry On.


The World Moves Fast And It Would Rather Pass By.
Then To Stop And See What Makes One Cry,
So Painful And Sad.
And Sometimes…
I Cry
And No One Cares About Why.
  

Jun, 17 2010     520 chars (4 sms)     2532 views       English Poetry

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i sit in the park where i dwell,
for this girl i love so well.
she took my heart away from me,
now she wants to set me free.



i see a boy on her lap,
she says things to him she never said to me.
i ran home to cry on my bed,
not a word to mother was said.


father came home late that night,
he looked at me from left to right.
he saw me hanging from rope,
he took his knife to cut me down,
and on my dress a note was found.



dig my grave,dig it deep.
dig my grave, from head to feet.
and on the top place a dobe.
and remember this, i did for love.
Why

Oh God, one cannot argue with you, but,
why did you throw us in the fire of love?

You formed us with your power, and water and clay.
Why did you create the moon-like beauties?

You made eyebrows into pens, and locks of hair into lassos.
You made sugar-water limpid from sweet lips.

If you wanted me not to become afflicted and degraded,
why did you create lovesick girls?

If you wanted submission and prayers,
you would not have given beauties coquetry and coyness.

If false love is a sin,
why did you make drunkard eyes drunk?
I Cry
Sometimes When I''m Alone
I Cry,
Cause I Am On My Own.
The Tears I Cry Are Bitter And Warm.
They Flow With Life But Take No Form
I Cry Because My Heart Is Torn.
I Find It Difficult To Carry On.

If I Had An Ear To Confiding,
I Would Cry Among My Treasured Friend,
But Who Do You Know That Stops That Long,
To Help Another Carry On.


The World Moves Fast And It Would Rather Pass By.
Then To Stop And See What Makes One Cry,
So Painful And Sad.
And Sometimes…
I Cry
And No One Cares About Why.
I roam by day, in search of shady trees
In between these huge palaces of stone
A shady place to sleep time and sun away
and then return to that old cold stone.
And to dream, looking at the mocking stars.

The sun slowly peeps at me, smiling
and I naughtily show my back to him
The world starts running around quickly
And tries to wake me up, but in vain
All I know and have, is my sleep galore.

These few lines, for those homeless friends, who sleep on the streets, these few lines, for our helplessness on seeing them. These few lines for their prayers and our reasons.
Your feeling is depressed... You always seem to be depressed and cry easily. You
are a bit (ok, more than a bit) over
emotional and are too sensitive. You rarely
smile, and when you do, it''s very weak...
your eyes always seem to be misty and though
others have tried to console you of your
sorrow in the past, no one can seem to get
through to you that there''s more to life than
being sad. No no one seems to hang around you
anymore which makes you feel worse, and you
feel as you''re loved by no one except maybe
your family. People might see you as the
"girl who doesn''t talk to anyone",
I can survive,
And still jive
Though you are gone

Doesn''t really matter
My heart wont shatter
What if I am alone

Let the flowers bloom
Let the birds chirp
I wont drown in gloom

Let the wind whisper
Sweet nothings,
Let the cloud flirt

The fragrance,
the lilting melody
The nightly croon

Nothing can make me miss you
Nothing can sway

But...
it rained today...
I look up
as a tear rolls slowly
down my cheek
I think about better days
and wonder if I''ll feel that way again
you look at me
with those eyes I know so well
always serious, so deep and insightful
as though you''re always in control
But not today
not now
Now you look so scared
like for once you don''t have the answer
I gaze at you
looking deep into those hazel eyes
Hoping to understand
why you''ve said those things you did
I wonder for a moment
if this is all a dream
if I shall wake in the morning
and be relieved
you look at me
with a confusion I have never seen
slowly pull me towards you
and wipe the tears from my cheek
Suddenly in the distance, a shadow appears,
A tear rolls down my face and the image is clear.
Today is filled with anger, fueled with hidden hate.
Scared of being outkast, afraid of common fate.
Today is built on tragedies which no one wants to face.
Nightmares to humanity and morally disgraced.
Tonight is filled with rage, violence in the air.
Children bred with ruthlessness cause no one at home cares.
Tonight I lay my head down but the pressure never stops,
knawing at my sanity, content when I m dropped.
But tomorrow I see a change, a chance to build anew,
built on Spirit, intent of heart, and ideas based on truth.
Tomorrow I wake with second wind and strong ideas of pride.
I know I fought with all my heart to keep the dream alive
One likes darkness, another is in the light.
Another drills to pile up worldly possessions.

What is, is in love, the rest is futile.
The world is nothing, its sultan and its shah all nothing.

Was there ever a sultan whose throne survived?
Is there a lover in this world whose name will fade?

May God bless my father who told my teacher:
"Teach my son love’s lesson, and nothing else."

Look at the soil and rock of the desert;
they’re mourning Majnun’s tears.

If Mazun dies as a pauper,
write on his tombstone: This is love’s abode. And nothing else
At every sunset, I cry and plead
Slow and just living, and yet I bleed
With angst, do I cry, take me home.
Please take me away from this old age home.
When you were born,
you were crying
and everyone around you was smiling,
live your life so that when you die,
you''re smiling
and everyone around you is crying.
Who Is Here? Who Is There?

In the Garden, when the autumn wind blows,
In the bird’s voice there is wailing and lamentation.

In the lovesick nightingale’s song there is a call,
with a different effect, a different mark.

Still, the nightingale is yearning for the love of the flower.
Still, the salamander is nesting in the oven.

Still, Mansur is hanging on the gallows.
He says: “I’m the Truth,” yet the secret (truth) is hidden.

Still, Zulaykha is not afraid of rebuke.
Still, Yusuf is evading Zulaykha.

Still, the Christian maiden is breaching Sheikh San’an''s faith.
Still, the Sheikh is tending her swine.