Familiar with the way to my village
I start my bike from my home
Sometime beg to go there
And many time escape without asking mum
Every turn, temple and tree
make me fly fear free.
Every plant, poster and pole
touches my senses, sprite, my soul.
As I approach my village
I feel pure, please and privilege.
But, the blur scenario of people's situation
is because of superstition and lack of education.
Every action of the people
denotes "what they think "
Every eye of the man
speaks they are addicted to drink.
Three things bring the battle
our history has the sign.
Same flows the blood here
Wealth, Women and Wine
These ***** unhygienic atmosphere
never suits to my prime.
Dad never lets me commit mistakes
As a mistake is a mistake once, next time its crime
I sense the air of my place
I sense the people of my kind.
kids playing on roads, ladies cooking on the courtyard,
I sense the mud, I am bind.
I love visiting my village
To feel me, my origin, my exist.
Something connects me to there
Maybe the blood in me, that persist.
May 23, 2017
May 23, 2017 at 11:59 AM UTC
Familiar with the way to my village
I start my bike from my home
Sometime beg to go there
And many time escape without asking mum
Every turn, temple and tree
make me fly fear free.
Every plant, poster and pole
touches my senses, sprite, my soul.
As I approach my village
I feel pure, please and privilege.
But, the blur scenario of people's situation
is because of superstition and lack of education.
Every action of the people
denotes "what they think "
Every eye of the man
speaks they are addicted to drink.
Three things bring the battle
our history has the sign.
Same flows the blood here
Wealth, Women and Wine
These ***** unhygienic atmosphere
never suits to my prime.
Dad never lets me commit mistakes
As a mistake is a mistake once, next time its crime
I sense the air of my place
I sense the people of my kind.
kids playing on roads, ladies cooking on the courtyard,
I sense the mud, I am bind.
I love visiting my village
To feel me, my origin, my exist.
Something connects me to there
Maybe the blood in me, that persist.
This poem was written in 2014. I just tried to describe my village in this poem.
There may be lots of mistakes in the poem, please do comment if you find any.
Request permission to use this poem