I

I can't write like you, I wish I could.
Nor the paint in the canvas I can do
You read of great people,their works
You sing,the melancholic tunes
Dance to the tune of air flowing past
Even those things I can't do.
I think
Of the green paddy-fields
The tears in a mother's eyes
See how lost an unemployed father feels
Of a son who failed himself
You say I'm Gothic,trapped in the past
I say I just love the night
The immense hope it portrays
The sun that awaits us with light
The defeat that compels us to fight back !

I sound hollow, I know I do
No matter how well-read you are
Books can't solve problems
Except sometimes, for a cue

With time,things differ
People and situations too
Evil and vain, I mayn't be
Yet,a martyr,for good's sake
To be or not to be,I wonder,I do
And I know you too

Hope high and dream big,I dare not
Tag me cynic,I know you might
With my feet on ground,eyes on the sky
Slowly and steadily I walk
'Cause that's what I have been taught
And that's how I choose to live by