Hold The Bar

By Hritik Kumar

The day was up to me

When all I hold the bright sun

And things were richly colored

Not a glare lost sun

I probed myself with apt clothes

With warm brain garnished up with notes

And all I had upon me, was an exam-warm

That was eating up my single chrome

I walked to school with conscience

And my mind was bunching up with science

When all I had a glance

A burnished Indian far at hand

Far enough for my teen blood

And when all I was to enter

A step inside and I stepped behind

Close at hand, I saw the man

Whose woes were ticking up with pain

And his brows were leaning up with age

I went far nearer

To see him with his cart

And all I saw to a limit extend

Was him holding up the bar

No more were his right hand

To power his pulling the cart

And directing its way was him

Holding up the bar

Similar, the wisdom, is hidden for life

Where each one directs themselves through the ‘grey’

The roads might look gloomy or haze

At times you may enjoy, shades of tree

But fear not of the path

Patchy, gloomy, whichever it may be

Shades are but for the sun

If lost, we lose the ‘grey’

By Hritik Kumar