Skip to main content

A lost Friend...

I lost a friend of mine
at the age of nine.
A friend who was as if, carrying my blood. Still now my memories do flood
with all the moments, penned down by us. He got lost, because of a single fuss.
A fuss that started way back,
when his parents heard him cry.
Asked him to stop, on his very first day,
because crying is not what he should try.
His parents' belief that tears would make him weak,
actually made him weaker instead.
It didn't matter now if he got beaten up, or got sick;
he still wouldn't cry, even if his face become red.
No one actually said to him that crying wasn't bad,
it's actually letting your emotions flow when you are sad.
The mistake we made by not knowing what real feminism is,
put up a huge burden of responsibilities on those little shoulders of his.
The shoulders that cracked up, because of those huge responsibilities.
Lying weak at night but standing strong in the morning, was one of his abilities.
Or perhaps, that was the only ability he had;
because the rest got wasted, when he was sad.
Just like other poems, cushions and showers came here to rescue
the emotions which were left, though they were very few.
The rest,
got suppressed,
under the fact that he was a boy.
Hence, had to show maturity at the age of nine,
instead of playing with a toy.
Because toys are for girls and are fragile.
The only mistake of his, was not looking at his strength and smile.
Here I am, writing a poetry on my friend,
whom I lost at the age of nine.
At the beginning I lied to you;
because the friend I lost, was actually the childhood of mine.

Comments

  1. The ending I did not expect. Great writing! Whooo!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thank you @sizzlingsisig. Would be great if you follow and subscribe.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Again I did not expect that..a surprise ending to a sad tale :)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Weel, it is great if you did not expect because then my write up is worthy enough to play and twist and turn your emotions. Thanks gor reading it. 😊

      Delete
  4. Such a great post! Loved your writing and the unexpected end!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you Valentina 😊 and yes, this is our sad truth of thos era of feminism.

      Delete
  5. Great poem and a great message. It's important for people to know that the rise of feminism can also be a great thing for men too.

    ReplyDelete
  6. So heartbreaking and beautiful at the same time. I'm not a big fan of poetry but I really enjoyed this. :) Also - that plot twist at the end was great.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Super ending took me by surprise. Great writing

    ReplyDelete
  8. This is great!! Touching and sad, but greatly written. - Shelby Gottschalk

    ReplyDelete
  9. Awww! That was a tear jerker! It is definitly ok to cry!!! Hugs to you!!

    ReplyDelete
  10. Great poem! You wrote it beautifully and you are very talented!

    Pammy -joyfulsource.com

    ReplyDelete
  11. This is a great poem. Love your writing , you are very talented.

    ReplyDelete
  12. The poem made me get all kinds for teary eyed and i just loved it. It was so beautiful.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The 70 years Old Man...

Seventy! It is not just a number, you see. Rather this number marks the soul which is free. Free from being bullied, because I am brown. I was bullied by the white people, who has the Kohinoor on the Crown. I was not the only one though, to see the torture; because I myself heard my brother to murmur, the pain he was going through that day. How helpless I felt because I had nothing to say. We didn't forget the date when our bond got lost; till date, we are both, paying the cost. Well, I personally did achieve a lot. Till now I cry and wonder how my babies fought in Kargil and secured me from other fights, I still remember the formation of Constitutional Rights. I still remember how badly I got terrified, when the Emergency period got me petrified. My this very brown skin was crowned in Miss World and Miss Universe. I went to the moon and back, and also succeeded in touching the Mars. I suffocate all the time because of the pollutions  caused by the cars. T

Hey you...

PERIOD! The word you do not want to hear, The blood you do not want to witness because of your fear, Is it only because it is coming out from the vagina? Or is it just because of the word BLOOD? Because if blood was the word responsible for your fear, you would not have leaned on to the girl, standing near. It is because, blood comes out of her body too, And that IS the same word that haunts you. Isn't it? How ironical is that you use the word Blood while cursing, And it is the same substance you may need, while someone will be nursing you because of the sheer lack of blood you may loose out of your vein, But even after knowing it is natural, you do not regret to sham a girl because of her stain. How sarcastic is it that kids now, can even smell misogyny around them, However for you, breaking a woman's hymen is not an act of shame. I wonder why not, because blood comes out of her bo dy at that time too, And it is the substance you are afraid of, ain'