Not many have walked past <br />On this abandoned solitary strip <br />Of sand, waves and the overseeing skies <br />Blue turns to grey <br />And grey to black <br />But I stand here like from another land. <br /> <br />Abundance and scarcity at my feet <br />Years have passed, patterns have changed <br />The head once held high <br />Is now a monument of awe and grieve <br /> Fulfilled the destiny <br />Filled the frames <br />Knocked against the tides with no one to blame <br /> <br />Is the ocean's abyss my bed? <br />Or is it better to be part of every picture's delight? <br />A question mark on fate <br />Debated over many a storm and gale <br />Now I anchor here like a tree <br />Fixed, rusted, my weathered feet <br />Dreaming of a thousand oars making me free <br /> <br />Reminiscing serene voyages of the heydays <br />Sailing, failing, rising and falling <br />Seagulls perching and sprawling <br />Still I shiver with the zephyr <br />A whiff of freshness <br />A perpetual tease <br />Waiting to burst into laughter <br />The sound of me crashing into the roaring sea <br /> <br /> <br />-A boat never likes to be anchored…. <br /> <br />24/2/2012<br /><br />KUNAL SETH<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-boat-left-on-the-beach/
