I should never compare
myself with others--I'm my own-
only that I should quietly endeavour
unnoticed and unknown,  all alone.

There is enough room
in life for me to explore
my duties to do, my dreams to crystallise
all that I can do is my best--no more.

Some make love
others break
just one word
sweetest joy or untold heart-ache

but those who love
should not fear and those who fear
should not love---too often
love is never free from a tear.

I had a dream
time spoke to me -woefully
'  My youth has fled too quickly
all that's left now is but melancholy

having witnessed too much of mankind
and its inhumanity
love and beauty has vanished
hearts are lost and empty-

I'm getting old
I'm weary
people come and go
but I'm chained to eternity

and there's no respite
no longer can I live in this endless monotony
even the sweetest songs lose their glory
when over-sung----none would shower me

with any sympathy
there is no consolation in my tears
I'm the oldest of the old
but I can't rest or die --years

after years after years
still I'm bound by duty
my suffering is deeper than any mortal's--
because of my deathlessness I can never be set free'.

Even tears
    do not know
    the depth
    of their own sorrow-

    will each tear cause
    a flower to grow
    from the dusts and ashes
    of the heart - perhaps tomorrow?

We are all stuck in time-
to such we have no remedy
life is a clinging-on---an endless waiting
hoping, desiring---what would the next moment be?

With time we wrestle
it's either too slow or too fast-
the present becomes the future
would it be as what had been in the past?

This is the road you have too frequently travelled
it excites and delights you no more
a total stranger walks by for the first time
and marvels: 'Such beauty I've never seen before!'

Have you forgotten when you first fell in love
and the person you would have given your life to adore?
blame not time nor circumstance---the beauty of the past
has not changed--- you've walked away and you have yourself to deplore.

In your craving for that
you would die in your pursuit
once gratified
your desire's taste-bud takes another route.

A thousand flowers in the field
they cloud and blind the eyes
the little pretty rose hidden in an unknown path
view that as your most precious prize.