"singh" poems
Hum us desh ke vashi hain.....
Jaha sabhi ka samman kiya jata hain,
Hum us desh ke vashi hain....
Jaha sabhi logo me ekta hain,
Hum us desh ke vashi hain....
Jaha atithi ko bhagwan ka darja diya jata hain,
Hum us desh ke vashi hain....
Jaha aurato ko devi kaha jata hain,
Hum us desh ke vashi hain....
Jaha hindu muslim sikh esai sabhi bhai bhai hain,
Hum us desh ke vashi hain.....
Jaha mata pita ko dharti ke bhagwan mana jata hain,
Hum us desh ke vashi hain.....
Jaha sabhi log desh ke liye marte hain,
Hum us desh ke vashi hain....
Jaha mahatma gandhi, Bhagat singh, Subash chandra bose jaise beero ne janam liya tha,
Hum us desh ke vashi hain.....
Jaha par sanchai aur ekta mishal hain,
Hum us desh ke vashi hain....
Jaha ki nadiya sudha jal deti hain,
Hum us desh ke vashi hain.....
Jise log bharat ya india kahte hain...
JAY HIND
JAY BHARAT
May 20, 2015
May 20, 2015 at 4:34 AM UTC
The Royal lady's eyes behold.
The scene that is about to unfold.
The procession just outside Hawa Mahal.
She looks from one of he 953 windows.
The red and pink sand stone of the Mahal,
She feels from her toes.
She is Rajput by heart.
And inwardly thanks Maharaja Sawai Pratap Singh for this intricate piece of Art.
Constructed in 1799.
From it's windown,
The breeze flows;fresh and beingh.
Out there there are all kinds of people
Old. Young. Fancy. Simple.
They radiate happiness.
Mounted on elephants or barefoot,feeling blessed.
She smiles to herself.
And closes the Jharokha and feels excited as now,
To her friends,she has a story to tell.
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 10:59 AM UTC
*
I am talking of fearlessness
"Fearlessness..."
The same fearlessness
Shown by Christ on the cross
The same fearlessness
Shown by Gandhi
For his non-violence
The same fearlessness
When Mansoor said "I am YOU"
Was lynched & cut piece by piece
The same fearlessness
Of Meera who sang for Krishna on the streets
When she was humiliated, ****** made fun off
The same fearlessness
When Radha danced for Krishna
Even after Krishna left Vrindawan for Dwarka
The same fearlessness
With which Hussaiyn Ali
Martryed his life at Karbala
While trusting someone
The same fearlessness
Of Sita when she withstood
The tests of Rama's accusations
The same fearlessness
When Bahi Taru Singh
suffered governor's brutal torture
The same fearlessness
When Mirziyaan gave his bow & arrow
To Sahibaan knowing that
The tip of his arrow may be blunted
Leading to his death
The same fearlessness
When Romeo drank the poison
And Zuliet stabbed herself with a dagger
The same fearlessness
That made Layla fall sick & died on hearing that
Her Majnun is roaming mad in wilderness;
Later on hearing about Layla's death
Majnun died near Layla's grave
The same fearlessness
When Rabia wanted to
Cease the fire of hell and
Set alight hopes of paradise
The same fearlessness
Of Rumi who guards
The divine light of LOVE
The same fearlessness
When one is compelled by
soul energy to LOVE BELOVEDz
That is the fearlessness
I am talking about
"The fearlessness of LOVE"
*
Oct 1, 2017
Oct 1, 2017 at 11:55 PM UTC
Cricket is the only game which lures me so much;
And then engrosses me so much.
That craze would never drive out of me…
My inspiration was ‘Yuvraj Singh’,
Only then I arose to identify that King.
Once Yuvi’s record of six sixes in six *****
The firmament was incredible for certain minutes:
That was the first time I witnessed cricket,
And India’s triumph provided me a mind-blowing buzz to watch cricket,
Nevertheless continuing with ***** and wickets.
I would turn crazy when Indian cricketers approach the ground,
And that would certainly not halt lest they are made proud.
This T20 shadowed by IPL,
Made me to by stand that awe-inspiring sport.
Chennai Super Kings-my favorite,
Followed by Royal Challenges Bangalore …
And lots more hilarious teams and cricketers.
When Chris Gayle approaches…
Tsunami warning must be lifted and “Gayle” (gale) warning must be given!
That’s how cricket relocates…
Most matches concluding in the closing over
And some others in the finishing ball…
The most exhilarating sport
Read more →and the format-
IPL is all fun for me…
With cheer leaders and the draped studio;
With cameras and videos
And at last the much awaited IPL trophy-
Cricket is all that it needs!!!
Jan 6, 2013
Jan 6, 2013 at 12:43 AM UTC
My First Day at Hogwarts
On a Saturday morning,
I woke up in pain.
Perched on top of my head,
Was an owl shaking its mane.
As I focused my glance,
the owl got clearer.
There was something clutched in its beak;
a pale yellow letter.
When I opened it,
words started to bloom,
Mr Y. Vartak,
The inner bedroom.
‘You have a place
in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,
Points will be taken for wrong,
and awarded for bravery.’
I showed it to my parents,
Who were not at all surprised.
They were in fact very happy,
I am a wizard I realized!
We took a plane to London,
Visit Diagon Alley.
In a hurry to buy my first wand,
robes and stationery.
It was the first of September,
so we hurried to Kings Cross.
We got to platform nine and three quarters,
after struggling through the chaos.
I had everything in my trunk,
I had nothing more to get.
My parents surprised me,
by giving me an owl as a pet.
I got a seat in the Hogwarts Express,
and put my robes,
There was a boy opposite me,
he was juggling bewitched globes.
We got off the train,
At Hogsmeade Station.
There was an amazing castle,
that was beyond my imagination.
We rowed across the lake,
sitting on boats,
It was getting colder,
so we pulled on our coats
We entered the hall,
Full of eyes.
There was a roof above us,
that represented the vast skies.
There was a dusty hat,
in the middle of a stage,
It had a rip near the brim,
so it looked older than its age.
A professor named Minerva,
Put that hat on my head.
The rip opened like a mouth,
Interesting is what it said.
The Sorting Hat as it was called,
said that he had to think some more,
After a while it yelled:
‘He’ll go in GRYFFINDOR!’
I joined the Gryffindor,
at the Start-Of-Term Feast.
We were so involved I talking,
we cared for our sleep the least.
After the feast, we departed,
for Gryffindor Common Room,
Outside the portrait hole, there was,
a shiny black broom.
I changed from my robes to my nightdress,
lay down watching the dying ember.
My eyelids were getting heavy,
I walked into a deep slumber.
This poem is written by me,
Yash Singh.
Specially written for my favourite,
Joanne Kathleen Rowling.
Sep 8, 2019
Sep 8, 2019 at 7:20 AM UTC
kaisi - kaisi din dikhati hai ye jindagi
kabhi hansati hai kabhi rulati hai ye jindagi
jise chaha apni anko ke palko pe sajake
oh kisi orke sath hai, kya khel hai ye jindagi.???
.
sandeep kr singh
Mar 4, 2016
Mar 4, 2016 at 12:00 PM UTC
Black Key
My Body This
How could I Complain Against You
When I Have Loved You
And Ever Have
I Felt Your Flesh Upon My Waking
Offering In the Light
And I said Yes
Nothing More Be Set
The Appetites Came
Again, and Again
Fertility Invoking Rhythm
Pleasure Of the Speak
Glistening Initiation
Completion of this Beginning
Light, Your Touch
My Strings Played
Beloved
My Secret Ravi
No Mastery Greater
Have I ever Known
For this Beauty of Creation
That I Weep the Love of Singh
Your Hearts Pleasure
Seen Always as My Own
Soft Teardrop Now Risen
To the Certain Touch
Of Bespoken Marriage
Lights Caress Upon Your Forehead
Shatki
Beauty's Welcoming Horizon
Visions Mark
My Touch, Your Muse
Your Light, My Love
Our Understanding
Beauties Vision, One Life
I saw your Body Upon Mine
In the Privacy of the Light
A Single Photograph Given
Your Smile
My Eternal Life
Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 2:16 PM UTC
This is about my beloved physiotherapist.
He tried his best to help me recover quick.
And today the initial period is reminiscent.
Dr. Amrinder Singh Kaler,
My generous physiotherapist,
Has a rather rare surname.
I used to enquire his name,
As I was extremely curious,
Much like a kid I had been.
Brain injury took heavy toll,
Severely quick memory loss,
At times I used to forget it all.
All day long I was apprehensive & confused,
Scared I remained thinking of physical pain,
I would ask them if someone would come.
I would ask him his name during therapy,
My memory was extremely short & poor,
I slowly learnt his first & second names.
But I would still ask him his surname,
I was not be told straight away by him,
He told me to strain my mind & guess it.
To tell him his own name was not easy,
Especially when I was so much in pain,
It was so much difficult for me to tell it.
But after few months' passage,
It didn't pain much to exercise,
As much as when I was worse.
I found it difficult to recall his surname,
I did say several Sikh surnames to him,
I would say all surnames but his own.
Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 10:48 PM UTC
-: माँ , तुझे जो याद करता हूँ ॥ :-
तुझे जो याद करता हूँ
माँ ??
मैं आँसू बहाता हूँ ।
जो तेरी याद आती है
मैं खुद को भूल जाता हूँ ।।
मैं बालक हूँ । तु समझी ना
मैं कटी हो गया तुम से ।
आंऊ जब भी HOSTEL मैं
तो क्यूँ आँसू बहाती हो ।।
वो पल जब याद आते है
मैं कितना टूट जाता हूँ ।
रख PHOTO सीरहाने में
मैं तुम से रूठ जाता हूँ ॥
मुझे भी पाता है की
माँ तु मुझ से प्यार करती हैं ।
तभी तो तु अकेले मे रोया
हर बार करती है ॥
मगर मै रो नही सकता ,
ये पापा ने बताया है ।
मै लड्का हूँ
कटु ये शब्द मुझ को क्यों सीखया है ॥
घनी है रात HOSTEL में
सुबह होने चला आया ।
समय अब 3:40 हैं
मगर सूरज न सो नही पाया ॥
माँ…
मैं आज भी रातो
में भी बस आँसू बहाता हूँ ।
जो तेरी याद आती हैं
मैं खुद को भुल जाता हूँ ॥
लेखक :- सूरज कुमार सिँह
दिनांक :- 06 / 11 / 2013
Aug 7, 2015
Aug 7, 2015 at 1:39 AM UTC
We live in a country,
where people are respected.
We live in a country,
where people 's unity.
We live in a country,
Where the hotel is supposed to be god.
We live in a country,
Where women are like goddess worship.
We live in a country,
Where hindu muslim sikh and christians are all brothers.
We live in a country,
where parents are considered to be the god of the earth.
We live in a country,
where all people have to die for the country.
We live in a country,
Where subash chandra, Azad and Bhagat singh was born as braves.
We live in a country,
Where truth and honesty is a precedent.
We live in a country,
Where the rivers are provide pure water.
We live in a country,
where the flag is always undulate.
we live in a country,
Those who call india.
JAY HIND JAY BHARAT
May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 3:49 AM UTC
-: माँ , तुझे जो याद करता हूँ ॥ :-
तुझे जो याद करता हूँ
माँ ??
मैं आँसू बहाता हूँ ।
जो तेरी याद आती है
मैं खुद को भूल जाता हूँ ।।
मैं बालक हूँ । तु समझी ना
मैं कटी हो गया तुम से ।
आंऊ जब भी HOSTEL मैं
तो क्यूँ आँसू बहाती हो ।।
वो पल जब याद आते है
मैं कितना टूट जाता हूँ ।
रख PHOTO सीरहाने में
मैं तुम से रूठ जाता हूँ ॥
मुझे भी पाता है की
माँ तु मुझ से प्यार करती हैं ।
तभी तो तु अकेले मे रोया
हर बार करती है ॥
मगर मै रो नही सकता ,
ये पापा ने बताया है ।
मै लड्का हूँ
कटु ये शब्द मुझ को क्यों सीखया है ॥
घनी है रात HOSTEL में
सुबह होने चला आया ।
समय अब 3:40 हैं
मगर सूरज न सो नही पाया ॥
माँ…
मैं आज भी रातो
में भी बस आँसू बहाता हूँ ।
जो तेरी याद आती हैं
मैं खुद को भुल जाता हूँ ॥
लेखक :- सूरज कुमार सिँह
दिनांक :- 06 / 11 / 2013
Aug 7, 2015
Aug 7, 2015 at 1:39 AM UTC
Jindagi ke kasma kash me
kuch aise fansa ki
jindagi jine ki tammana hi khatam ** ***
kaise batau tumhe ki
kis kadar pareshan hoon mai
halat hi kuch aise hai ki
in hoto se bayan hi nahi hogi
.>>>>>> SANDEEP KUMAR SINGH.
Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 9:46 AM UTC
उनको पूजु है मन अब मेरा हो रहा
जन्म दाता है जो , जन्म जिसने दिया
है वो नर,
पर नारायण सा लगने लगे ।
सोये हम इसलिए जब वो जगने लगे ।
माँ पिता के कई रूप अंजान है
मै पुजारी हूँ
वो मेरे भगवान है ,
इस जहाँमे कोई पुष्प
है ही कहाँ ,
इनके चरणों में जो लाके
मै डाल दू ॥
मेरा तन मन समर्पण
मेरी आतमा,
जिसको चाहो चूनों अब
मेरी भोली माँ
मेरे पापा ,
मै बालक
कहूँ और क्या ??
रक्त हर तरल
आपके पग धरू ॥
जन्म दाता,
ये भी भेट कम लग रहा
पर मै हूँ बालक तुम्हारा
करू और क्या ??
तुझ को पूजु है मन, अब मेरा हो रहा
जन्म दाता है तु, जन्म तुमने दिया ॥
सूरज कुमर सिहँ
दिनांक – 21 – 07 - 2015
Jul 29, 2015
Jul 29, 2015 at 1:52 AM UTC
A bird lived its life lonely,
None came for its help,
It kept hunting for fruit pulp,
Considered relations and family unholy.
When its mother lived on difficulty,
Other relative birds, treated it a person of mediocrity,
Refused to follow generosity without partiality,
To keep them safe, pretended their incapacity.
Elder sister of the lonely bird kept threatening,
About the future inabilities and loneliness,
For a family life, kept telling it undeserving,
Told it would face disappointments without liveliness.
Life kept the lonely bird, lonely,
The bird never cared about it,
It had its mother with it,
Life went lively & happily.
Lonely bird had a fear in its thought,
What happens, in loneliness if I am caught?
It felt severe anguish and fear,
On occasions, its heart fell in tear!
Its elder sister, treated it with disrespect,
In spite of it being, an aspiring intellect,
Life of lonely bird remained downward,
It got itself ready for situations untoward.
The lonely bird kept struggling and thriving,
With its ambition and goals put its life driving,
Going remained really impossible & tough
The path to dream remained very rough.
Its fellow birds, remained happily settled,
For lonely bird, things looked to be tangled,
It was skilled, opportunities remained disabled,
With rejections, life continuously growled.
The lonely bird wanted to turn phenomenal,
Didn’t look out to happiness personal,
It did not have family,
In its wealth remained, being hit poorly.
Life went downward with pause,
It was on long term ambition and cause,
The bird turned itself a hungry beast,
To put it away from loneliness, at least.
If none is there, to take care,
I would die! I would die!
For a worldly mission, if I dare!
Of loneliness, I would never cry!
Elder sister of lonely bird threatened,
You were born a layman
Will die an orphan!
Because you are a madman!
The lonely bird, responded for it in life,
I was born a layman,
Will fight for my mission like a madman,
Will die always fighting world evils as a spearman.
There was ring! There was a ring!
It was named Bhagat Singh!
It told me life is lived on its own,
Others shoulders are used at time of funeral.
There was an alarm! There was an alarm!
The name was Abdul Kalam,
It told me Always be the unique you,
Even if world wants to change you everybody else.
Loneliness sometimes hit it like thorn,
Nothing could make it torn,
Through difficulties it was born,
It lived life to make this world adorn.
Loneliness turns out ubique,
I am not alone! I am not alone!
I am an unshakable stone,
I am unique! I am unique!
Oct 18, 2018
Oct 18, 2018 at 8:07 AM UTC
Dr Manmohan Singh is the most honest Prime Minister
Ms Sonia Gandhi is his dearest sister
India is proud of Her Silvery Himalayas
And her Inestimable super scandals
If She is able to progress with such a large scale corruption
Which is as vibrant and furious as volcanic eruption,
Every foreigner must be jealous of her glorious future
If the politicians become a bit patriotic in nature
G2 spectrum is the greatest scandal in India of incredible magnitude
The politicians and the bureaucrats need to be complimented on their fortitude
Mother India is a benign Goddess of great treasure
She can withstand any arson , looting,robbery or exploitation beyond any measure
Dec 28, 2010
Dec 28, 2010 at 2:18 AM UTC
1.
Potholes
spots of sunshine
wobble
2.
Sudden downpour
noisy trucks at midnight
crowded footbridge
3.
Sipping coffee
at a wayside stall
cockroaches too
4.
The morning sun
fondling with tender fingers
the red roses
5.
Chasing each other
in the bylane
two birds
6.
A girl
between the railway tracks
swings her pony tail
7.
Softness of wind
magic in her nearness
sleight of hand
8.
End of festival:
I stop by her haiku
on twitter.com
9.
A teenager
glides past me on roller blades
her long hair flows behind
10.
A toddler
trying to stand up by the pram—
young mother watches
--R.K. SINGH
Sep 19, 2012
Sep 19, 2012 at 12:52 AM UTC
Let Heaven look after her
Her last moments were in Hell
A beautiful woman taken
A victim of brutality
Thrown from a moving bus
Left out in the cold to die
A friend feels the pain
He loved you but was powerless
His soul is crying for you
A family lost someone special
She was a daughter, a sister
Hear her father in agony
The World stood still that day
The shock remains for all time
You still had so much to give
So very much to live for
In silence the World prays
Rivers of tears fall for you
Jan 11, 2013
Jan 11, 2013 at 3:26 PM UTC
-: कहानी बने ?? :-
हम भी मजबूर है,
तुम भी मजबूर हो !!
हम बहुत दूर है
तुम बहुत दुर हो !!
फ़िर मोह्ब्बत कि कैसे
कहानी बने ??
मैं तड़पता रहु,
तुम तड़पती रहे
हम दिवानों कि ऐसी
कहानी बने !!
मेरी यादों मे तुम
युं न आया करो
मै कहीँ ?? पर रहूँ
मन कहीँ पर रहे ॥
तेरे बिन मेरी हालत है
कुछ ईस कदर
मीन जो रेत पर
जल बिना हि रहे !!
मेरी ख्वाबों मे दस्तक
दिया आपने
कि लगा लखों परीयाँ,
मुझे मिल गई ॥
निंद से जब जगा
बस अंधेरा ही था
तब लगा निंद मुझको
था कितना हंसी ॥
निंद से जब जगा
बस अंधेरा ही था
फ़िर मोह्ब्बत कि कैसे
कहनी बने ??
फिर से मैं सो गया,
ख्वाब देखुं तेरी
ख्वाब मे हीँ मुझे
गुद गुदी हो गई !!
तेरी यादो में मैं
कुछ यूँ खोया रहूं !!
मेरा मन है कहीं
तन कहिं पर रहें ??
मै तड़पता रहूँ
तुम तड़पती रहो
हम दिवानों कि ऐसी
कहानी बनें ॥
मै तड़पता रहूँ
तुम तड़पती रहो
हम दिवानों कि ऐसी
कहानी बनें ॥
हम भी मजबूर है,
तुम भी मजबूर हो !!
हम बहुत दूर है
तुम बहुत दुर हो !!
फ़िर मोह्ब्बत कि कैसे
कहानी बने ??
- सूरज कुमार सिँह
दिनांक :- 16 / 10 / 2014
Nov 21, 2015
Nov 21, 2015 at 2:29 AM UTC
Not my stop, but
I take your hand
still the thought of
pull you with me
leaving makes my
kiss you fiercely
heart feel hot – to cross
together
beneath the buzzing light,
escaping
silently into this crisp night.
Sep 2, 2018
Sep 2, 2018 at 5:43 AM UTC
-: मै मीनाक्षी :-
मै मीनाक्षी ,
भयभीत हूँ , मौत के बाद भी
मौत का द्रिष्य,
अद्भूत नजारा था,
गैरों के लिये !!
पापा,
मै अब नही,
संभाल लेना खुद को ,
बस आप ही , अब माँ का
सहार हो !!
माँ मुझे आंचल से झाप देती
घर से चौक की दूरि पैदल ही नाप लेती,
मै बहुत कुछ करना चाहती थी
पापा को कैंसर है
ये गम तो, पहले ही मार डाला था
पर आपके लिये
हर रोज मरना चाहती हूँ !!
पाँच दिन का जोब
कहाँ कुछ कमा पाई थी
पापा मै आप को बचालूगी
बस ये दिलासा दिला पाई थी !!
तब तक मुझ पर
चकूओं का 35 वार,
माँ,
लगा सब चुट रहा था
हर चोट के साथ
कई सपना टूट रहा था !!
माँ – पापा आपकी याद आ रही थी ,
आप दोनो कि चिन्ता
मैत से पहले मारी जा रही थी !!
पापा,
मै मर कर भी जिन्दा रहना चाहती हूँ
आप कि सेवा करना चाह्ती हूँ ,
पर ये हो नही सकता,
पर आपकी चिन्ता
मुझे अब भी सताती है !!
पापा क्या आपको मेरी याद आती है ??
मेरे सपने , मेरी जिन्दगी
सब सीमटती जा रही थी
तब भी मुझे मेरी गलती
न याद आ रही थी !!
किस गुनाह का ये सजा थी
क्या लड्की होना,
इतनी बडी गुनाह थी !!
अगर हाँ,
तो मै फिर ये गुनाह करना चाहती हूँ !!
- सुरज कुमर सिहँ
दिनांक - 19/ 07 / 2015
Jul 29, 2015
Jul 29, 2015 at 1:54 AM UTC
We can hear: "caw caw! Ping ping!"
As we return to the bust of The Wiygg;
He who knowest thou deliver Burning Sword
To Sanjeet and Romesh Singh,
Those who beat their blood-soaked wings.
Once that particular door has been shut,
And twilight enfolds from within,
Lang, Rita, Jamal
And Hatesh P. Benjamin,
Where will you call home
Once the end of the night begins?
Oct 31, 2023
Oct 31, 2023 at 9:18 AM UTC
I WENT BACK TO THE CHRISTMAS PLAY
I HAVEN'T BEEN IN YEARS
AND JUST LIKE ALL THE TIMES BEFORE
I BROUGHT ALONG SOME BEERS
IT WAS MY YOUNG SON'S DAUGHTER
WHO I HAD COME TO SEE
SHE WAS BETTER THAN MY SON HAD BEEN
SHE WAS WISE MAN NUMBER THREE
THE STORY, IT REMAINED THE SAME
OF JESUS AND HIS BIRTH
OF HOW THE ANGELS CAME AND TOLD
TO THE SHEPHERDS HERE ON EARTH
THE BOY WHO PLAYED THE ANGEL
WAS SUPPORTED BY A HOIST
HE WAS EXTREMELY NERVOUS
WHICH MADE HIS WINGS QUITE MOIST
HIS NAME WAS DAN AND HE WAS FROM
A TOWN OUTSIDE OF WHEELING
THE HOIST GAVE WAY AND ALL I SAW
WAS DAN SINGH ON THE CEILING
HE LANDED SAFE, THE PLAY WENT ON
AND NO ONE WAS THE WISER
UNTIL A WATER PIPE DID BREAK
AND STARTED SPEWING QUITE THE GEYSER
I SAT AND WATCHED WITH MY YOUNG SON
WE KEPT IT TO OURSELVES
BUT ONE WISE MAN WAS SIX FEET TALL
AND MADE THE OTHERS LOOK LIKE ELVES
I THOUGHT BACK TO THE TIMES BEFORE
OF HOW THE PLAY ONCE WAS
IT NEVER REALLY WORKED OUT RIGHT
AND WE NEVER KNEW THE CAUSE
BUT HEADS FELL OFF AND DONKEYS PEED
AND ANGELS LOST THEIR WINGS
BUT THESE WE ALL EXPECTED
THESE WERE SURELY SPECIAL THINGS
THAT MADE EACH PLAY DIFFERENT
EACH PLAY BECAME IT'S OWN
SPECIAL LITTLE MOMENT
AND EACH ONE STOOD ALONE
NO ONE PLAY WAS PERFECT
BUT NEVER WOULD WE SAY
WE RATHER WOULD HAVE STAYED AT HOME
THAN COME OUT THERE THIS DAY
REMEMBER NOW, SOME YEARS HAD PASSED
SINCE I FIRST SAW THIS SHOW
F/X HAD NOW BEEN ADDED
AND THE BABY'S CRIB, IT GLOWED
THEY TAPED A BABY CRYING
TO COME OUT FROM THE CRECHE
IT WAS THE FIRST TIME EVER
JESUS CRIED LIKE DJ FRESH
THE TAPE THEY USED WAS BORROWED
BUT THE KIDS THEY DID THEIR DUTY
BUT IN THE BACK, BEHIND THE CRYS
WE ALL HEARD "SHAKE YER *****
I CLOSED MY EYES PERCHANCE TO THINK
OF TIMES SO LONG AGO
OF FIGHTING THROUGH THE TRAFFIC
AND DRIVING IN THE SNOW
I LOOKED ACROSS AND THEN I SAW
MY SON HAD DONE THE SAME
I WONDERED THEN IF HE THOUGHT BACK
AND IF THIS WAS JUST A GAME
THE PLAY WENT ON WITH OUT MUCH FUSS
AND WE ALL STOOD UP AND CHEERED
FOR EACH AND EVERY CHILD THERE
AND THE FEW THAT HAD REAL BEARDS
I SOUND AS THOUGH IT IS A WASTE
OF TIME, BUT THEN AGAIN
NEXT YEAR I KNOW THAT I'LL RETURN
TO WATCH FROM EIGHT TILL TEN.
Jun 6, 2012
Jun 6, 2012 at 12:01 PM UTC