A poem should be soundless as the flight of birds...A poem should be equal to not true....A poem should not mean but be.

For my friend

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I was not a stone my friend
But I have learned to be one
The pressure of the layer above
The pressure from down below
I cried, I panicked, I called for help
But I was put to the test
I was lonely, I was alone, afraid
But the need to survive made me bear.

If you get a closer look you’ll see
The vunerability deep inside me
I do now have the quality you see
The quality of perseverance
For I know as time passes by
I know I will make my mark
As a stone or as a mountain
Whatever it will be but a mark.

I was not a stone my friend
But learned to be one
Against my will, passing the test
Shredding my weakness
I have learned to survive
To make a mark
A monument of my very own
But the truth is
I was not a stone, my friend.

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Dinita Rai
J P Sharma Road
Darjeeling