Uma Pochampalli

Uma Pochampalli

Sometimes I feel I am trapped inside a body
Congestive as a closed doored dark room
I cannot figure out how I could ever get out
To feel free or liberated from these prisons

Time is lapsing with endless dreams unfinished
One idea vanishing with another one rushing in
Mighty warriors have gone, what of me, I will too
I do not suppose writing makes me any wiser, yet

I sit down with a heart stirring out sad thoughts
Melancholy has always been me, my alter ego
For no reason I feel tryst again, see them dreams
Fade out, bright day ahead, would be better spent

With thoughts straightened and actions etched
Activities vanishing in thin air as I seem to be lost
I would wonder what it takes to keep a continuity
With a life away from ones own people from home

- Uma pochampalli


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