On The Occasion Of World Poetry Day

The thing I love about poems is that they mostly have hidden meanings between the lines. Things that only poets can see. Truths that only poets know. No decipherer can ever interpret the exact meaning of a poem. Not because he’s incapable, but only because poems are supposed to make actual sense to only those who write them.

I haven’t read much poetry, in fact, you may say that I haven’t read any poetry at all if we’re talking about the famous poets. But poems really are extraordinary writings. They speak the language of truth. Spoken in such a deceiving manner that you don’t realize it at all, they might talk of feelings felt in the most realistic way possible. It isn’t laborious to sit down and read a poem, they’re that short. Rhyming in poems may sound like a thing for children’s poems but in reality, it piques everyone’s interest just as much.

We often find ourselves relating to the things we read in poems. Some lines tend to cast such a spell on us that it’s difficult to shake the feeling away. Poems are magical. They disguise the truth as verses so well which makes it almost impossible to figure it out.

If you think of it, strange ideas can strike you in the most unexpected places.

On this occasion of World Poetry Day, I thought I’d share the poem I wrote last.

And here it goes:

Be any rich man's son,

You are still flesh and blood.

Be the king of any realm,

You are still flesh and blood.

Be the common,

And you will still be flesh and blood.

So what sets us apart?

If not the riches we reap?

Blessed with a mind and blessed with a heart,

Vulnerable it may make you,

Still leaves you capable of tearing the world apart,

Or bring it together..

For it is your choices which define you.

(Friendly reminder: Poems don’t have to rhyme.)

On the day I wrote this, I was thinking about this poem by Robert Frost called ‘Fire and Ice.’ I’d been a little unsatisfied with the explanation that we’d been given in the school. And I was also constantly thinking how wrong we might have interpreted this poem or that ‘what if the poet meant the end of the world in either fire or ice (as given in the poem) in its literal sense?’

I wrote half of this poem while I was headed to my science class and the other half when I was sitting all by myself on my half - hour ride to school in the bus. It gets really tough to not think about things at a time when you can't note them down immediately. And that makes me fear I'd forget it. But nevermind.

I just said that most poems have hidden meanings in them which only make complete sense to the poet. But, honestly, I didn’t want to say anything specific by this poem. It came on its own. And I cannot find that one thing in my entire trail of thoughts which had me begin this poem. Which is incredibly frustrating because I can't follow my thoughts but also kind of relieving because I might’ve discarded those thoughts for the good.

By the way, this poem is still untitled. Suggestions are appreciated in the comments below.