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afterlife poem featured image

Afterlife

Woke up one day To find me dead; It didn’t make a difference. I climbed out my bed, And walked a mile To find no one, But were they ever there? Not a soul lurked, Not a car stirred, The traffic of dopey minds Was

The Crying Child with Father

The Crying Child

What ails you, child? Why cry you wild? The journey is yet to begin; The world is crook and pain And outright insane; It hides in its ways, Mysterious days, Hurt, that has yet to find a name. It will a play a game That’s

everyone else image people in boxes

Everyone Else

My parents named me a very common name. You google it and thousands of Prashant Singh show up. They had unknowingly registered me to their very idea of normalcy. Maybe they secretly wished me to be like everyone else. But I am not everyone else.

waiting hands image for poverty

Waiting Hands

Reading so much hope In so much less, You are warriors of dark Fighting for light. I wish you weren’t A mere statue of pity For comments pithy, Forgotten like people often Forget things unimportant. I have never known, I might have known; But the