'Distance'

Distance seems a word so small,

But carrying so much pain.

A never ending journey,

How much I disdain.

Voices becoming so low and faint,

Nothing remains the same.

Heard from a distance,

Are only incomplete names.

Memories slipping away

And faces growing pale.

Home, now a house,

Put up for sale.

Arms wide open

But no one to embrace.

A bunch of friendly people,

But no familiar face.

Sufferers of this distance,

Will surely empathize,

Those teary swollen eyes

And those killing sleepless nights.

'Lahore'

A small poem I wrote about Lahore and its different faces a couple of years back as a college assignment.

Temples, mosques and beautiful shrines,

a feeling so sacred, so touching and divine.

Vibrant colours and festive faces,

illuminating the darkness from barren places.

Festivals, occasions and  all these celebrations,

keep us alive and keep us in motion.

Sad faces of a poor man,

lying on the pavement, no ceiling, no fan.

Standing on guard at a restaurants door.

Happy and content, not asking for more.

Little boys fixing the cars,

throwing their dreams to a place quiet far.

Asking for money, knocking on the window,

Tent for a home, but dream for a meadow.

Worries stresses and too much of work.

Waiting for a life, looking out for hope.

Lahore is a city, of too many faces,

Too many people and crowded places.