Why do we always remember our first kiss ? No matter how bad our memory is or no matter how hard we try to forget it, we don't. How you remember how it was when you fell off your bike for the first time. Your first fight. The "first time" itself is a phenomena. A discovery of something new. A one way learning experience which feels so amazing because for once you have a feeling of an "empty cup".
Your "first time" could be rivers of honey flowing through a field of lollipops where it rains candies but for someone else it is just like that movie about cowboys and aliens, ... what was the title of the movie again ? ... Well my point is usually the firsts are crude and raw but only one person who can understand your first is you. So at any point if the poem feels childish know that it was written by a child.
I wrote this poem when i was 9 years old. I have a hazy memory of how i came to write it but i think we were given the first two lines and asked to finish the poem. I wrote it in my school which had a very beautiful campus. with open skies, vast open grounds to run around, trees and birds great teachers and amazing friends. So here i am sharing my first poem and feeling like an "empty cup" all over again.
The birds and The winds
The branches swaying to and fro
And the birds seemed to come and go
The wind was blowing
And the birds were flying
The higher the birds flew
The faster the wind blew
Finally the birds needed rest
So they came back to their nest
The branches stopped swaying
As the birds stopped chirping
As the night came
It was the end of the flying game.
- Salman
Your "first time" could be rivers of honey flowing through a field of lollipops where it rains candies but for someone else it is just like that movie about cowboys and aliens, ... what was the title of the movie again ? ... Well my point is usually the firsts are crude and raw but only one person who can understand your first is you. So at any point if the poem feels childish know that it was written by a child.
I wrote this poem when i was 9 years old. I have a hazy memory of how i came to write it but i think we were given the first two lines and asked to finish the poem. I wrote it in my school which had a very beautiful campus. with open skies, vast open grounds to run around, trees and birds great teachers and amazing friends. So here i am sharing my first poem and feeling like an "empty cup" all over again.
The birds and The winds
The branches swaying to and fro
And the birds seemed to come and go
The wind was blowing
And the birds were flying
The higher the birds flew
The faster the wind blew
Finally the birds needed rest
So they came back to their nest
The branches stopped swaying
As the birds stopped chirping
As the night came
It was the end of the flying game.
- Salman
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