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Rated: E · Poetry · Activity · #1735586
I wrote this poem way back in Feb 1998. I was 18 years old.would like some reviews.
From the end margins of the path
Which makes its crooked way
Into the land of all soul's desire
I can hear a clear and
Distinct call for me.

This unavoidable call urges me
To put on my weary boots
Adorned by insect eaten holes.
May I never return
To you all, to the land
Where I am leaving my hopes
And expectations
Still in search of a selfless shower
Of love and blessings.

I plead for you all which
Let give you your yearnings.
I dare not to be in your
feelings and thoughts but
Still carry with me
An expectation of being
Remembered as an
Eccentric lad quite
Unfit to do contemporary things.
Fetch me a place
If not in you heart, In you mind---
If you can.

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