Wednesday, July 29, 2009


His legs feel like jelly
Knees buckling,standing seems a huge task at present.
A funny feeling in his stomach,
The pancakes at breakfast seem to have come alive
He can hear his heart
It might just burst out of his chest.
The curtains go up
He feels like someone poured cement on his head.
He brings the mic close to his face
Tries to remember what he wrote down
“Opens his mouth but the words just won’t come out”
Perspiring like a criminal taking a polygraph test.
The crowd is getting impatient
His opponent’s arrogant smirk sapping the last of his self-belief.
He begins his first line but the crowd is booing
They don’t wanna hear,they just wanna heckle him
He wishes a lightning from heaven would strike him
He throws down the mic and rushes out of the stage
His dreams burnt to ashes
His months and years of preparation wasted
In a few seconds
And he knows the chance won’t come again.

He enters his room
Everything is just the same
Smell of dinner coming from kitchen
Brother and sister fighting over tv again
He opens a drawer
Finds what he was looking for
Smiles for the first time in the day;
Then points it to his temple and shoots himself.
As the blood around his lifeless body
Forms different ingenious patterns
Everything else still remains the same.
Except for a man and his boyhood dream.


Quintessence Of Illusion said...

Impressive.....gud work

NesQuarX said...

Hmm, messy... but fun! (this is the point where you doubt my sanity... but that's fun too!)

Samadrita said...

Sad...very sad!And I'm soo tired of sad things at the moment!But nice work.Though you could have written this in the form of a story rather than a poem.

Smoke, weed, novels and maths said...

nice presentation. But I agree- u could have done better in prose form.