Just a short poem
***
The chipped walls, the leaking ceiling.
The one bedroom hall, where whole family is residing.
Tell stories of struggle, and battles fought for surviving.
There is no urge to die, but a hope to keep thriving.
The earthen smell keep's them grounded.
They work every hour with the faith to be founded.
The power that patience holds should be lauded.
For those in misery have to be founded.
From being treated like dirt, to fine pearl.
When their endeavours are discovered, they feel heard.
When their efforts pay the fruits, they whirl.
For adversity is the place from where brave unfurl...
***
YOU ARE READING
From my Heart's Attic
Poetry'From my Heart's Attic' is an ad-lib, a collection of poems. "Poetry is far vital a truth than history." Created in the spur of the moment, these poems are just randomly spewed thoughts , emotions and feelings I wrote with my heart's initiative. ...
