Tears Of A Poet

I hide behind the dark nights
The dark clouds under my eyes
I hide the pain when I say
Your name but the pain in me
Is still the same, my rocky heart
Pours down heavily any time I sit
Under my roof in secrecy
I hide my emotions behind that smile
Sitting alone, I think less
I think about you, I think about the world
I think about us
Sitting on the walls of my heart,
My emotions flow like a cascading water fall
Pouring from my eyes like a rolling stone,
Flowing like a raging fire.

With mixed feelings I shed tears
No body can understand
The reason behind the tears of the poet
No body understands our emotions except us
We cry because we are happy
We laugh because we are sad
This is not a poem
It is a lamentation of a poet
This poem has no poet
This poem was not written
This poem was cried out
Penned down by billions of flowing inks
Blue inks and gay inks
This poem shall linger in our hearts
It shall be forgotten not

This poem calls for change
Turning back the hands of time
Erasing the prints in the sands of time
To right our wrongs
We write the wrongs
In history and forget about the rights
We have rights,yet lawlessness is what we enjoy
We cry in pain
Yet our tears flow in vain
The cries of the writer pours like rain
At every every single stare of the world

Our tears pour for the world
Through our inks we cry for the world
We shed our blood
Through the living words flowing through us
Passing through our veins
And coming out as colourful inks
We cry for our selves
We cry for the world
The words of a poet
Are the voices of the world
The tears of the Poet
Is the cries of the world
The world is dumb, it can speak
Yet it can not be heard
Who is a poet?, you may ask

A poet is not a painter
But a writer who paints
The world with colourful words
And this is not a poem
But the tears of the poet
Always remember that these are not writings but
they are tears
Do not read nor recite them, mourn them
Share the joy of the poet
Mourn his pain and celebrate his joy