« »

FEW AND MANY (revised)

0 votes, average: 0.00 out of 50 votes, average: 0.00 out of 50 votes, average: 0.00 out of 50 votes, average: 0.00 out of 50 votes, average: 0.00 out of 5
Loading...
English Poetry

 

A few are born with golden spoons.
They love to live the life to full.
Many but spilled out of spittoons,
who wish to die today, doleful.
 
The few know not the many; nor
they try to lend a kindest ear
to their grim cry; nor see their scars
still bleeding years after the tear.
They have a name and fame to cheer.
A castle huge on mountain top
to view the bright morrow so clear 
and sip nectar of life, non-stop.
 
The few can afford high ambitions;
record memoirs and travelogues;
can play wise pranks and weave a yarn
and bring new trends and styles to vogue.
 
Many a reason have, the few
to live; but everything askew
for those many to live. They live
to die and die when fail to live.

3 Comments

  1. achuthan vatakketath ravi says:

    ചിതറിയ ജീവിത ചിന്തകള്‍ ചിതറിവീണ വാക്കുകള്‍.

    • anuradha says:

      @achuthan vatakketath ravi, I think I am rather clear about my views on this subject; atleast I could put forward in clearer terms my idea in this poem. But many poets have naturally scattered brains with scattered thoughts. I am no exception. I don’t know. May be the thoughts I put forwrd have some disjuncted emotions. Howver, your comment is very special, analytical and thought-provoking. Let me think over again and see whether I can improve my style.

      With best regards,

      anuradha

  2. Gion Gion says:

    Anuradha,
    I feel this needs an edit from “golden spoons” onwards for clarity of expression though themes of equality and compassion do come through as I understand the poem.
    If I am too bold or wayward in my suggestions of idiom and phraseology please forgive me.
    Fergus

    A few are born with silver spoons,
    they love to live life to the full.
    Many but spilled out of spittoons,
    who wish to die today, doleful.

    The few know not the many; nor
    ever try to lend a kindly ear
    to their grim cry; nor see their scars
    still bleeding years after the tear.

    They have a name and fame to cheer,
    a castle huge on mountain top.
    They view each bright morrow clear
    and sip the nectar of life non-stop.

    The few can afford high ambitions,
    record a memoir or travelogue.
    Can play wise pranks and weave a yarn
    and bring new trends and styles to vogue.

    Many a reason have the few
    to live, but everything’s askew
    for those many to live. They live
    to die and die when fail to live.

Leave a Reply


Fatal error: Exception thrown without a stack frame in Unknown on line 0