Outside of poetry
I would still be living a life
lightened and carefree
merrily chatting with wife.

I would let a poem rise in my head
throw to wind and see it dead
return to sky all breath of pain
watch them fall as joyous rain.

I would darken the screen let it sleep
burn the poems with none to keep
retire to the nook not been for long
brush up the web on a dusty song.

To be away from poetry I would strive
sail on the river go on long drive
snuggle tighter to a fathomless space
outside of poetry discover happiness.

~~
Let the boy go
underneath the open sky
Let him to find his way
it may be soft or hard, bend or straight

Let him play
with grasshoppers, butterflies who are made his springtime
where dreams rolling on the horizon
That only brushing those images

Let him know
about the books and stars, tell about the lost star
about the tragedy of his ancestor,
even tell about friends or foes

Let him realize
The history of the civilization
what is right or wrong,
how knowledge grew the pen strong!

Let him feel
The beauty and spines of roses,
The freedom of choice where the mind mates
at the estuary of sea  

Let him love
The  birds, animals, people  
And only a girl where he makes
the next dreams of life

One day he will know
His existence within the nature
Envision the existence of universe
And write a poetry about the future of mankind

So Let the boy go

~~
@Musfiq us shaleheen

over death we ponder too much
or none at all
but not upon the landmark most difficult to touch

living life well.

am i living my life well?

no, money can't help achieve
nor a good career of success

you know it too well not to believe
they do any better than robbing happiness.

then is it a nice wife and a loving family
kids to hug, comfort you generously?

no, not really, they still aren't enough to ensure
fullness of life as may only briefly endure.

then what is it that makes life lived well

a good sleep to tide the night
a roof over to dwell?

doing just what you like or minding the other's wish
let your desires run wild or hold them under leash?

to me it's a mystery getting answer to which I fail
the parameters of a life, having lived thoroughly well.

but over time I've realized, deep in, its echoes ring,

living life well has a lot to do
with being contented with smallest thing.