An Old Friend

A bleeding heart, silent in its stream

Meanders away from its distant dream

A gash awakens, a wound that had healed,

The tale behind its scar revealed

Like an old friend, it holds my hand,

And leads me back to a familiar land

My lungs are filled with a scent from my past,

Strokes of blue, on a canvas vast

I know this place, I know this hue,

The still of the wind, in the silent view

Like an old friend, it holds my hand,

A familiar pain, that I can't withstand.

                                                     Nadeem...

The Poet

Somewhere in the material world,
I lost the man, I knew, I loved,
the man that was me, that I had become.

I lost the innocence and the look in those eyes,
I lost the faith, the determination,
I lost the focus, the elixir that he was
to all my pain,my inspiration.

When people laughed and mocked at him,
he smiled and knew they would repent,
never kept a grudge, no venom, no hate,
He had the heart and a simple fate.

Few lines believed what he was all about,
few lines that danced and smiled like him,
few lines of a poem that rhymed like him.

I miss that man, that man that was me,
and so last night I must have cried,
when I realised, the wind in my sail,
that lovable poet, that was me had died.
Nadeem....