It was one year ago today that I wrote this and it's still rings true. A man is but the product of his thoughts, what he thinks he becomes - Mahatma Gandhi
Dry not, my pen https://ishaisms.wordpress.com/2019/06/21/dry-not-my-pen/ — Read on ishaisms.wordpress.com/2019/06/21/dry-not-my-pen/ Dry not, my pen, nor bite the dust before my time, you’re the nepenthe to my agonies, the breath to my life. Dry not, my pen, nor leave me to fend for myself, your nib is my sword, your ink my solitary help. Dry not, my … Continue reading Dry not, my pen
Are we the people we make believe we are? Are we pretending to be something we are not? We like people's post on Facebook and these people we might not know. We follow people on Instagram who use filters and change their look for greater followers. My question is who are we really?
Loyalty https://lonelyblueboy.wordpress.com/2019/04/29/loyalty-2/ — Read on lonelyblueboy.wordpress.com/2019/04/29/loyalty-2/
Hidden Lost Bewildered You will find a wander looking for a gem He will be hidden in the grass waiting for the light to die He will be lost in a world of lust and envy When he finds the gem he has been looking for he will be bewildered and understand eventually that the … Continue reading Location
My heart isn't whole and it never will be. I'm broken and I can't be fixed. Broken open and left alone. Abel Prasad
I wanted to share with you another poem written by my father. Its simple but means a lot to me. Mangoes - Dr. Umanand Prasad Large mango tree Laden with fruit Whether it be baby Green or ripe All delicacies' recruit Baby is one without seed Littlest of the lot Usually left to grow So … Continue reading Mangoes – Dr. Umanand Prasad
I walk down a road and I come to a junction and I didn't know what way to go. I turned left and went down a path I didn't expect, Hidden in the dark was a trap I didn't see coming. I fell down and couldn't get out of. People laughed as they walked by … Continue reading A Path Travelled – Abel Prasad
When the world is cold, When my eyes water, When my friends recede. Will you be there? Will you be the one to make me smile again? Will it be the same? I just want to laugh, I don't want to be the man who dies slowly inside.
I wanted to share another poem by my father. I often will just sit and read whilst in the office. I find it helps me with my day. My Rose Tree By Dr. Umanand Prasad Not so long ago I watched my rose tree grow. Green petals and buds with thousands flowers and more. Iceberg … Continue reading My Rose Tree – Abel Prasad