The New Robert Frost

A poet with a perspective and uniquity
Youthful ambitions
Influenced and motivated by Robert Frost
And the curiosities to dance like him.

Aged twelve….in the eighth class
My fingers spread into words.
Tried to rhyme with honey,
And piled them one by one.
Can't remember exactly,
But almost about fifteen ones.

I was no Shakespeare or one among them.
And within my limitations and imaginations,
I laid the bricks, the metals, the cement….so on
And built my Golden pillars, one by one.

I was truly an underdog,
But covered my shy with a thick blanket
And unfolded my teacher, what I hid…
“Hmm……is this a mockery or crockery?”

For a moment, the world stood still.
His words then chased and haunted me very hard.
Deeply was my soul, shattered
And this thing, my friable heart, split into pieces.

The Red curtain then fell in my front.
With all the pain, I burned my Golden pillars.
Lost all ambitions to be the new Robert frost,
Threw my sword and put this frost into my closet.

Generations passed by……..Long eleven years.
He followed and caught me in my dreams
And whispered into my ears…….
“Oh my boy…..
Leave your past…..
Suture your wounds….
And fill your heart.”

The sparrow of hope flew in my front
And the new Robert Frost arose from my grave.
With days of rehabilitation, my courage came again.
Somewhere from the Sahara's I started again.
Without knowing if they were durable or bearable,
I started painting my gorgeous bricks, one by one
To build my new Golden pillars…
And to be the new generation….Robert Frost.

©Anees Rahman