Page 25 - Weaver Magazine | Volume 17 - January 2023
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VOLUME 17 I JANUARY, 2023
Poem Collections
NEW YEAR
V. Subramanian There was a pin drop silence everywhere, as
AN IDLE MAN The clock struck 12 at midnight, heralding the
everyone held his breath,
arrival of the new year!
The Sun rises in the east, indicating the birth Crackers burst, lights went up and hell broke
of a day. loose,
A day full of promises, hopes, aspirations and Amidst the deafening noise and din and flow of
achievements. champagne,
I sit idly in the chair, looking out in the open, I was born! The New Year was born!
Like an aimless cloud, drifting in the sky, I Everyone wished everyone a very happy new
watch the day progress. year without really meaning it,
Not knowing what to do, not knowing what to
achieve, Day after day after day, week after week and
month after month,
A man without an aim in life, a man without a People continued to fight with each other, for
purpose in life. their own selfish gains.
As the drew closer to an end, they blamed me
I allow the day to die, doing nothing, for all their misdeeds,
achieving nothing.
The Sun sets in the west, reminding me that And concluded I was a bad year!
one more day is wasted.
For life is too short, with each passing day, I
get only closer to death What an irony!
Who would tell these idiots, that every new
year is gift of the God,
THE CANDLE LIGHT
As a fresh as a blooming flower,
The days are passing dreadfully slow, And it’s their own misdeeds which makes the
Like the burning candle’s painful glow, year good or bad!
Shadows lengthen underneath, As the time passed by, I grew older and older,
Finally, I was laid to rest at the dead of the
Choking the candle’s breath. night of the December 31st,
For how long the candle can burn itself to light, To welcome yet another new year,
When it knows its life has reached a twilight!
To give it a ritual birth death year after year!
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