I am still alive.

By Ninad Dighe.

Standing in front of the mirror,
I see nothing but blood,
God I am glad that it hurts,
It keeps reminding me, I am still alive.

Standing below the dark sky,
I see the stars smile upon me,
I have been asking, am i alone?
All cease their smile, but said nothing,
But I am glad, I am still alive.

I see the mushroom could of dust settle,
I see those people now, whose lives
now don’t matter.
I ask God, what wrong have they done?
Waiting for an answer, I am still alive.

I see guns in their hands instead of toys,
I see no fear in their eyes,
Neither do I see life in their lies,
I wonder how mean men can die,
But I am glad, I am still alive.

I see them sweat,
To loose that fat,
And I see those arms,
Asking for just another day.
Well I am glad, I am still alive.



I see the babies smile,
I see the kid forced to open her legs wide,
Now I wished I wasn’t alive,
Everyone has to die one day,
And some have to die everyday,
But I am glad I am live.





I see people lost but in truth,
I wonder has God asked them to kill?
I see them die for no cause at all,
And I ask myself does it hurt to be alive?
Now I hate to see the color of blood,
But it tells me I am still alive.

I tell myself, we got a world to run,
One day for sure its all going to end,
The world has bled enough, has suffered enough,
Now it can take no more,
But I am glad we are still live.

To make a country!

They sat all day, thinking of the past,
Memories of what a country they were born,
Was the only thing that ruled their thoughts.

You ask them “what your country is made of?”
You hear nothing but memories of the past,
No dreams of future, no hope of a start;
All that they said was the memories of the past.

“What are your dreams for future?” if asked,
Not to be outdone they argued, “we are a county of the past.”
We had a great country where people looked upon,
Where our kings ruled wonderfully,
And happy were the rest of all.

Dream is what you lack said I,
To make a country for the world to see,
Leave the past as history, lets see a common dream for days to come,
Let this dream not let us sleep!
To make my country a part of me,
But me a part of the country.

By
Ninad Dighe.
(This is not a Copy Paste)


"Memories of the glorious past are talked about more than the dreams of a better future..... Its then we know that the country men have nothing new to offer, so to defend their present miseries they talk about their history. Then we know for sure we are in the wrong crowd."