How Painful, It Is to Love

How Painful, It is to Love

A worker toils the whole day for making their two ends meet

At the end of the day

Body exhausted, flowed out all the sweat

Finds none to see the work and pay

Goes back home empty handed, nothing to say

To their empty belly, adds few sips of water

Which hurts, rather than eliminating the hunger

You may say 'sorry' to them and laugh out the matter

But it hurts me, leaving me scatter

For I know how much painful it is

For a lamp to burn waiting without hope fuel

Like trying to satisfy the hunger with water cruel

Because I am the worker who toiled

Craving in the dark night, how I coiled!

*

A poet dries up their blood shedding tears

Whole night to empower poetic words, evading fears

Morning arrives with full composition of morrow

Finds the World too lusty to listen to the poem of sorrow

What to do of the poem, and the emotions expressed

Composition valueless today, in future would it be assessed

The words made of blood bite them back, like dogs hound

You may say 'sorry' to them, and laugh the matter out

But it hurts me like spreading darkness, switching off light

For I know how painful it is to write the whole night

And find the World illiterate to the poetic words tried

Because I am the Poet who composed

Reverberating words, dark night, how I silently cried!

*

A lover waits for their beloved

Whole night feeling bluffed

Brute Sun arises with emptiness all around

Disappears the hope of arrival of the beloved

Wonders why they are there, what may be their role

Weeps in loneliness, none to tap shoulder to console

Lover's life lost in waiting, not even a shout

You may say 'sorry' to them, and laugh the matter out

But it hurts me like taking away somebody's birtright

For I know how painful it is to wait for the whole night

And find the beloved having nothing to realize

Because I am the lover who waited

Streaming tears, blank life, how I capsize!

***