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December 05, 2004


There I saw it-

A little plant between the rails

Its leaves swaying with the wind-

Too tattered, too few

Not graceful, but surviving.

Every five minutes

A train passes over it;

Bending it alarmingly

Somehow it manages

To stand up, to survive

It will never grow-

Grow enough to be a tree

But it is fighting

Fighting till its inevitable end.

There I saw it-

A little boy on the rails

His clothes swaying with the wind-

Too tattered, too few

Not graceful, but surviving.

Collecting plastic wastes and leftovers-

As a train passes every five minutes;

He somehow climbs the platform

And waits for it to go by

To continue with his work.

Weak and faltering at each step

Will he ever grow ?

Grow enough to be a man

I doubt it.

But - he is fighting

Fighting the bitter end.

Both listless and lifeless

Colourless and songless

One to be run over by the train-

And the other by the train of circumstance

By Prerak Ved

Another one of Prerak's many wonderful poems. I hope you are as impressed with it as I was.

05:23 AM in Poetry | Permalink


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another good one....u have a talent for sure. very touching

Posted by: Vatsa | Dec 12, 2004 9:42:02 PM

First of all, thanks to DV to agree to post my poems on her blog - Thanks also for all your positive feedback, it matters a lot….

No, I am not a writer – although I do like (and intend) to write more in the future (hopefully)…..

Posted by: Prerak Ved | Dec 12, 2004 5:08:46 AM

Highly impressed! Beautifully written and impacting.

Posted by: Nia | Dec 9, 2004 9:09:20 PM

The comparison is very cleverly done..

Posted by: Urvashi | Dec 8, 2004 6:17:03 PM

Prerak Ved you are very talented. Are you a writer by profession? Please share more of your works.

Posted by: SV | Dec 8, 2004 1:48:58 PM

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