Hark! The rhythm

Hark! The rhythm. The pellet drum rattles. The dance begins. The creation, the annihilation, the fleeing in-betweens, and beyond these appar...

Wednesday, November 27, 2013

Innocence uprooted

Gorgeous green patch,
Sometimes barren brown,
Or even the rooftops,
All alive with
Glimpse of childhood
Scuttling away,
On tiny feet.
Innocent banter,
Soccer and rumpus,
A catch here,
A goal there,
One life down,
Two more to spare,
Soaring kites,
Scaling skies,
Evening gathered,
And so did life
In these little niches
Now remembered
With fervor
And
Even a tinge of gratitude.
The patches stand silent today,
Forgotten, blanked out.
Favored
Only by flocks
Of thoroughbreds of air.
Nonage now prefers
Sophisticated gadgetry
To bruised knees.
Who ever thought
That
Technology
Would come to
Pluck out
The very childhood.

Linking with Trifecta : Week 105
Linking with Picture it & Write 
Linking with Five Minute Friday : Fly

8 comments:

  1. It's a sad reflection but very true. Our children will grow up to have very different memories from our own. A haunting poem, thanks for sharing. Visiting from FMF.

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    Replies
    1. Thank you so much Macleesy. You said this so nicely - different memories - i second these thoughts totally

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  2. I see this happening with my nephew and niece, and they're toddlers! I'd rather see them playing with outside toys or building blocks than all of the electronic computer-like toys that are on shelves these days.

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    Replies
    1. Same here. I am scared my nephews will wear specs from a tiny age if they don't go out and play. I believe its partly we, who melt and give them all these stuff, to be blamed. :) but then times have changed. Thank you Draug

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  3. Here, here. Great poem, brill ending. Thanks for sharing and voting is now open.

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    Replies
    1. Thank you so much Editors. Its always great to hear such encouraging words from you

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Since every thought is a seed, I am looking forward to a delicious harvest.