Bharat

in the dark hour of midnight
a lady was born
with aspirations in her children
foregone

dressed in three colors
she was brought on stage
in caring hands
just out from the cage

but all was not well
as her children fought
for the reasons
which are better not told

as time passed
wounds were healed
but not before
children forgot all her needs

today they celebrate
her sixtieth b'day
without a gift
which will make her real gay

poem 2

in the time
when media is going insane
for the people with no brains
who spend their money in drains

i feel
wont it be better
if i was in fetters
away from their rubish chatters

life $uck... not a nice poem

acting like a lame-duck
i always say life suck
'coz i ain't making big buck;
wish there was some luck

everything feels muck
when i see those gals
behind the guys with big buck;
wish i also had some of tehir luck

at the end of teh tunnel
i see some light
that also of a approaching truck;
finally, i need no more luck


comments, editing, suggection definitely invited :)