Poem on Life

 Whispers in the Rain

These rainy days,  

Echo memories of something lost,  

A shadow that clings,  

A weight upon my soul.

Good people departed,  

Their absence was a silent ache,  

Yet I stand encircled by thorns,  

The company of those who wound.

Blame rains down like drops,  

Unjust accusations,  

A tempest of falsehoods,  

I shelter my fragile heart.

My true self veiled,  

Hidden from prying eyes,  

Vulnerability invites pain,  

And trust is a fragile thread.

Yet, in this storm, 

I find strength within,  

God's lessons are etched in raindrops,  

Guiding me toward self-love.

Thank you, divine weaver of trials,  

For shaping resilience,  

For teaching me to dance  

Amidst whispers in the rain.

OR

These rainy days,  

Remind me of something,  

Something bad!  

I cry for good people who have left me here,  

But God has left me with bad people surrounding me from all my ways.  

As I don't have anybody to support me,  

Everyone blames me for the mistakes I haven't made,  

And the mistakes others have made.  

I need to hide my real identity before someone hurts me.  

Myself, thanking God for creating problems early,  

That helps me solve problems by myself,  

And to love myself, not others.  

Thank You, God.

By Yashvi Gavankar