POETRY

 

1. "I Tried Again"

I lit the lamp when the world went to sleep,
Buried in books, the silence ran deep.
Each page a step, each night a war,
I gave it my all—then gave even more.

My hands shook, my eyes turned red,
With every law and number I fed.
Mock tests, revisions, a calendar marked,
I fought with focus, fully embarked.

I saw the result, and silence screamed,
The hopes I had… the dreams I dreamed.
Failure struck not once but twice,
Cold and sharp like shattered ice.

I cried in corners, I broke in bed,
A thousand doubts danced in my head.
Am I enough? Should I let go?
Questions whispered soft and low.

But still I rose, I faced the sun,
Not because I’d already won—
But because quitting felt like defeat,
And courage stood where success had beat.

This is my story, rough but true,
Of falling down… and standing too.

---

2. "You Are Not Alone"

You wake up again before the dawn,
Another night of sleep is gone.
You hold the pen, your fingers sore,
You ask yourself what all this is for.

You've tried once, you’ve tried twice,
Yet the world seems cold, not nice.
People say, “It’s okay, keep trying,”
But inside you feel like you’re slowly dying.

You don’t want pity, you don’t want praise,
You just want peace on your darker days.
You’ve screamed in silence, cried in shade,
Questioned every choice you made.

But listen—this is not the end,
You’ve more strength than you pretend.
You are not a failure, not your score,
You are the fire that will rise once more.

Your journey's rough, your load is steep,
But there’s purpose in the pain you keep.
Each setback is a scar you wear,
A sign you fought, a soul that cared.

So breathe, get up, try again—
You are not broken. You’re becoming.

---

3. "He Still Fights"

He sits at the edge of another night,
A tired boy beneath the light.
His hands are calloused, his spirit worn,
His second failure freshly torn.

They say he’s smart, they say he’s kind,
But none can hear his racing mind.
The noise within, the quiet fear,
The voice that says, “You don’t belong here.”

He tried his best, both times in full,
But dreams don’t care for hope or pull.
He gave up sleep, let go of fun,
Watched the seasons change with none.

They think he’s weak—but they don’t know,
That strength is choosing not to go.
That even when he wants to hide,
He opens books and swallows pride.

The mirror shows a boy in pain,
But not a soul who fights in vain.
He rises slow, though heavy-hearted,
For dreams aren't dead, they're just delayed… not departed.

And one day soon, when he stands tall,
They’ll say he rose—and never saw him fall.