Child Marriage
Oft an adults with childish mentality do marriage
With an aim to travel in life’s joyful carriage.
On fate’s tortuous road of uncertainty
With an aim to sing life’s joyous ditty
The coach drawn by colts of happiness cum sorrow.
Rushes on a road winding up to morrow
Then a wanton fantasy running amok
Mates with a desire running wild
And in due course produces a sacrificial child.
Then, adult children with unfulfilled goals,
Imprison poor newborns in their ambition’s gaol.
They prod tiny tots with a goad of desires
Till their limbs gets tired and hearts emits fire.
The fools trying to fulfill goals in a vicarious way
Unknowingly extinguish the newborn rays.
The child born in an accident
Complains in a front of providence:
In muffled prayers or screams
To rescue his brutally raped dreams.
Thus their desire abuses new born child
Who is yet to shed innocence’s guild.
Eventually the carriage falls in
a dolorous dell,
And the progenies that
begets in the hell,
fight like Cain and Abel.
Dr Hitesh C Sheth
02/06/2009
poem by Hitesh Sheth
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Related quotes
Singing Sorrowful Song
Why hearts all sing sorrowful ditties,
Why nightmares torment dreams pretty,
Why sorrow revels in fate’s kitty,
Why sorrow humbles joy’s uppity,
Why sorrow questions joy’s sanity,
Why sorrow encroach joy’s city,
Why sorrow disrobes nubile pity,
Why hearts all sing sorrowful ditties.
Dr Hitesh C Sheth
04/01/2009
poem by Hitesh Sheth
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Into how many parts would you divide the child after Divorce?
You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many insane parts would you divide your new-born child’s eternal happiness; after your treacherously vindictive divorce?
You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many heartless parts would you divide your new-born child’s invincible freedom; after your venomously unbearable divorce?
You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many ribald parts would you divide your new-born child’s unsurpassable creativity; after your lethally unceremonious divorce?
You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many salacious parts would you divide your new-born child’s majestic destiny; after your lecherously ignominious divorce?
You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many emotionless parts would you divide your new-born child’s triumphant spirit; after your contemptuously debasing divorce?
You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many terrorizing parts would you divide your new-born child’s unbridled fantasies; after your abhorrently cadaverous divorce?
You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many excruciating parts would you divide your new-born child’s humanitarian blood; after your cold-bloodedly cannibalistic divorce?
You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many tyrannized parts would you divide your new-born child’s unconquerable artistry; after your violently besmirching divorce?
You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many reproachful parts would you divide your new-born child’s redolent playfulness; after your despicably devastating divorce?
You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many sacrilegious parts would you divide your new-born child’s impregnable mischief; after your sadistically bemoaning divorce?
You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many wanton parts would you divide your new-born child’s impeccable integrity; after your hedonistically carnivorous divorce?
You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many ghoulish parts would you divide your new-born child’s limitless fertility; after your mindlessly malicious divorce?
You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many diabolical parts would you divide your new- born child’s infallible innocence; after your unforgivably truculent divorce?
You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many vengeful parts would you divide your new-born child’s uninhibited cries; after your preposterously bigoted divorce?
You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many criminal parts would you divide your new-born child’s princely silkenness; after your tempestuously confounding divorce?
You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many satanic parts would you divide your new-born child’s tiny brain; after your barbarously ungainly divorce?
You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many sadistic parts would you divide your new-born child’s unlimited curiosity; after your egregiously dastardly divorce?
You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many carnivorous parts would you divide your new-born child’s parental longing; after your inanely decrepit divorce?
And you might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but tell me; into how many goddamned parts would you divide your new-born child’s immortal love; after your devilishly vituperative divorce?
©®copyright-2005, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
poem by Nikhil Parekh
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American Child
I was ten, I was thin,
I was playing first base
With a secondhand glove
And dirt on my face
In nowhere, Virginia
Who'd ever figure that kid in the yard
Would go very far
It was 419 Lakewood ,
had no silverspoons
Just an old beat up upright
that played out of tune
Now I'm singin' and living the life that I love
And when I count my blessings
I thank God I was an American child
An American child
'Cause dreams can grow wild
Born inside an American child
Seven pounds, three ounces,
She's got my nose
And she's into my heart as deep as it goes
With a promise that's more
Than just someone's last name
Anyone's equal, in late August came
An American child
An American child
'Cause dreams can grow wild
Born inside an American child
My grandfather would have been eighty today
But in '45 he fell down beside
An American child
An American child
Oh, an American child
'Cause dreams can grow wild born inside
An American child
song performed by by Phil Vassar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An adult is still a child
A child imitates its mother with air.
An adult imitates models to seem fair.
A child imagines a child in a doll
And enjoys tending it with fantasy.
An adult imagines some ones in his
And experience bliss in fantasy.
A child fears and pretends ignorance.
An adult dreads and pretends innocence.
Though old, still a child, I amuse myself
Though wise, still a child, I fool myself.
12.06.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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A Child Is Sweet Any Day Of The Week
A child that's born on a Monday
holds beauty in sight and mind.
A child that's born on a Tuesday
is graceful, sweet and kind.
A child that's born on a Wednesday
is a treasure, so they say.
A child that 's born on a Thursday
sees a quest with each new day.
A child that's born on a Friday
is loving and freely gives.
A child that's born on a Saturday
shows great work through how they live.
A child that's born on a Sunday
is happy, carefree and gay.
I guess you could say that a child is
special, no matter what the day.
poem by Christine K. Trease
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Child of Zar'roc
Child of Zar'roc
Born during the storm
Raining down blood
Striving on hate
Drinking the tears
Of those in pain
Poor child
Born of Zar'roc
Sheath your sword
And bow your head
Dont take the path
Thats set before you
Turn dear child turn
Run down the path of good
Hurry child of Zar'roc hurry
For fate may soon come
Crashing down on your world
I pity you child of Zar'roc
Truly I do
To be born in such a life
I truly pity you
poem by Janelle Morehart
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Where Is The Child?
love is blind,
life is wild,
death is wide,
where is the child?
hatred everywhere,
badness fills the air,
life is so unfair,
where is the child?
no one is funny,
bees make no honey,
everyone is running after money,
where is the child?
hearing no good voice,
there is much noise,
by a freaky gang of boys,
where is the child?
no one is having a good dream,
everyone wants to scream,
there is no more white cream,
where is the child?
purity is gone,
children have no fun,
badness is now in everyone,
where is the child?
there is no more respectable art,
no real love in any heart,
sadness in every part,
where is the child?
where is the child?
where is the child?
poem by Sarah Abu Zeid
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Lifesong
to a child very young
life is
happiness and fun
to a child getting bigger
life and school
seem to be getting bitter
to a child growing up
life and love
seem to be getting mixed up
to a child fully grown
life is about
making choices on your own
to a child with a child
life is about
making sure there life isn't wild
to a child getting old
life is about
keeping your family out of the cold
to a child old and grey
life is about
remembering the past things you used to say
to a child dead and gone
life was about
your one lifesong
poem by No Reason To Care
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Yesterday's Child
Yesterday's child
I remember so well.
So young, full of hope
of good things they tell.
Yesterday's child
future of life.
Free from the pain
of discord and strife.
Yesterday's child
innocent gift
running free and wild,
mind adrift.
Yesterday's child
soft and pure.
If I wonder away
you're loves' great lure.
Yesterday's child
an adult today
neither soft nor pure
but gone a stray.
What has possessed our hearts so cruel?
Once a perfect child
is now a perfect fool.
poem by S.W. Clark
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Instinct
Pop
Standing on the borderline
Between joy and reason
Tending carefully my fire
Waiting for my season
I know who these people are
I know what they stand for
Corruptions built into this plan
Nothings under the other hand
Tricks and trials await the child
Instinct keeps me running
Running like a deer
Instinct keeps me running
Running through the grinning shadows
I have seen the sludgy beach
And the poisoned river
I have met the lordly rich
Theyre just getting stiffer
This whole place is like a maze
Or like some medusa
Let me out I cant accept
A certain read life story
Tricks and trials await the child
Instinct keeps me running
Running like a deer
Instinct keeps me running
Running where the sorrow bless me
Instinct keeps me running
Running like a moose
Instinct keeps me running
Running to keep one chance open
Marks on walls, the common outlet
Tell the truth and always will
Marks on wall destroy the thought
Of perfect sunny civilization
Tricks and trials await the child
Instinct keeps me running
Running like a deer
Instinct keeps me running
Running through the grinning shadows
Instinct keeps me running
Running like a bear
Instinct keeps me running
Running to keep one chance open
Instinct keeps me running
Running cause I dont believe it
Instinct keeps me running
Running through the bare emotion
Instinct keeps me running
Instinct keeps me running
Running
Im running, running, running, running
song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A God Within In Every Child
Apart from Nature there is a God known as the God Within
Found in every child in every Land for children are free of sin
A God within in every child or so 'twould seem that way
But most adults lose their God within though to another God they do pray
All children born with their God Within and sad am I to say
That as we age our God Within from some of us tend to stray
Forced to leave us by the Ego by it crowded out of our mind's space
For the kind and compassionate Inner God in our being there is no place,
A God Within in every child that's how 'twould seem to me
Though with that sort of thinking there are many who would choose to disagree
Of a God Within they will tell you there is no such a thing
Of the praises of their God Up There they only wish to sing
Most of us do lose our Inner God to too much love of self and greed
And the innocence of children is a Godlike thing indeed.
poem by Francis Duggan
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I'd Love To Be A Fairy's Child
Children born of fairy stock
Never need for shirt or frock,
Never want for food or fire,
Always get their hearts desire:
Jingle pockets full of gold,
Marry when they're seven years old.
Every fairy child may keep
Two ponies and ten sheep;
All have houses, each his own,
Built of brick or granite stone;
They live on cherries, they run wild--
I'd love to be a Fairy's child.
poem by Robert Graves
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When childhood dies, its corpses are called..?
what does child mean?
a miniature of yourself
a treasure to be loved
or a learning human
what does child mean?
a gift to be cared
a burden in your life
or a true friend
what does child mean?
a sacrificial lamb
a heir from family line
or his/her own future
what does child mean?
a natural born trouble
a sweet little angel
or just a mere child
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Knocked And Ran
He, on a road, was standing
Ignorant of the road-laws.
He was in his tattered clothes;
A poor village child he was.
I was sitting in a car
On the left of the driver.
When the car came near the child,
It was slowed by the driver.
He sounded aloud the horn,
But the child did not it care.
The child, in his tattered clothes,
Remained standing mutely there.
He was aping the gesture
Of the driver of the car.
How joyful in his action,
As if he were in the car!
He was moving round his arms
In driving his unreal car.
The driver, taking the side,
Safely steered his real car.
But a truck from the front side
Down the road speedily ran.
The child, in his tattered clothes,
The truck driver knocked and ran.
poem by Aziz Ahmad
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Our Child
this is our child.
not just yours or mine
but everyones, that are born in our time.
a child is born every minute around this world
beautiful boys and girls.
these children are gifts from god.
and he has chosen you to be the one
who will carry the daughter or son
look into any childs face and you will see
that they belong to you and me.
the child has a bit of all humanity
this is the way god meant it to be.
these are the children of peace
the children of love
given to us from god above.
.
i read in the papers of childrens lives taken
because of anger, fear, sickness and hate.
lets stop them before it too late
put them in jail and throw away the key.
just so that children can sleep peacefully.
if as a child you was abused, neglected, and not loved
then it's time for you to change your life around
and not let these children die on the ground.
stand up and fight, and take
pride in what you do.
the child you save, could have been you.
poem by Louis Rams
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Child's words
Child's words, in the woods
Through the leaves, to my towns
Hey, hey, where are you?
Child's happiness fill the air
Covering the nervous heart but it still on shine
Child's words, in the seas
Swiming the fishes, around the earth
Hey, hey, who are you?
Child's innocence into the winds
Blowing the seamen and ringing the bell
Child's words, in my heart
Keep it beating, running the blood
Hey, hey, what did you do?
Child's something keep me young
Child's something I never found
poem by Old Amsterdam
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Born To Be Ransomed
Born to be ransomed,
Born for a reason,
On one side Love,
On the other side Security,
Mabey,
Taken to be placed elsewhere,
Or,
Mabey,
Taken to be placed with them,
Born to be ransomed,
Held ransomed by those,
For security measures of the father and mother,
So,
They are called on by the beckoning,
Of,
Those holding child held by ransomed,
Is what people do when child means,
A lot to mother and father,
Love and security in family keepings,
Born to be ransomed,
With intent to use child,
By the takers of child,
To profit and gain,
For themselves in lifes times,
When child born is then used,
Till,
Mother and father is killed,
And,
Child is then raised in a racket,
For,
What mother and father were,
And,
Left for the child when child grown,
In giving is receiving,
All that has good intentions,
Gives for good reasons,
Yet,
Why one is born to be ransomed,
Is,
The what see's and pre-desires,
The placement and life,
Of,
What two in love have made,
The unborn child then becomes,
The ransom of what wants,
What,
The two have in love and wealth,
When this goes on and child is grown,
The eyes that see and yet do not understand,
Is,
The child raised seeing all,
From,
The good ways,
To the bad ways,
To the cruel ways,
To,
The crimes committed and seen,
Is,
The eyes of seeing,
From,
Been born in a world disrupted,
Is,
A child born and ransomed,
What is of matter,
Mattering to two,
Two in love,
That,
Choose to be one,
One as in a couple,
To matter and be,
For,
What matters to them,
Is,
What brings matter of two,
To,
Become a matter of one,
A,
Child born of two,
Yet,
Now matter's to none,
But,
What ransoms the child out,
Till,
The child grew to be,
And,
Left them all behind,
Knowing,
Mother and father are dead,
Living,
Life knowing too much,
Just,
From been the ransom,
The ransom,
Of,
All,
That,
Is,
Of,
Mother and father,
Till,
All,
Of,
Mother and father's,
Income and places,
Was,
Spent and giving to others,
Tis,
Then,
Ransomed child grown,
Can,
Leave,
With noting,
But themselve,
To have some kind,
Of life,
Somewhere else,
Faraway!
poem by Ellen Ni Bheachain
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Dig For Fire
There is this old woman
She lives down the road
You can often find her
Kneeling inside of her hole
And I often ask her
Are you looking for the mother lode?
Huh?
No.
No my child, this is not my desire
And then she said
Im digging for fire [4x]
There is this old man
Who spent so much of his life sleeping
That he is able to keep awake for the rest of his years
He resides
On a beach
In a town
Where I am going to live
And I often ask him
Are you looking for the mother lode?
Huh?
No.
No my child, this is not my desire
And then he said
Im digging for fire [4x]
song performed by by Pixies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life Songs
When a child is born into this world,
what kind of song will his or her life be?
A song of joy?
A song of hope?
A beautiful rhapsody?
One of sadness, or of grief?
A song of misery?
When a newborn cries and opens its eyes,
what will its song be?
A song of greatness, a song of wealth,
or one of poverty?
When trouble comes, and surely it will,
what will that child's song be?
When we are born our song begins
and we enjoy its pleasant tune.
We sing its melody in the innocence
that leaves us all too soon.
As we grow we hear the songs of
people in various places.
Songs of pride, songs of hatred
and of conflict among the races.
The songs of children playing together
are very pleasing to hear.
Regardless of race, status or color,
their sweet songs don't cause fear.
The Master told us that with childlike qualities
we'll see God's heavenly city.
To miss such a goal because of hearts so cold
would be a tragic pity.
We hear life songs every day and
like smoke they fade away.
But lives that are sung with childlike meekness
will 'inherit the earth' someday.
To sing a song of wonder and worth
is how this life should really be-
with all the innocents throughout the earth
and with love as our constant key.
When a child is born into this world,
what kind of song will his or her life be?
A song of joy?
A song of hope?
A beautiful rhapsody?
****************
Matthew 18: 3
****************
poem by C.F. Wilkins
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Knocked And Ran
He, on a road, was standing
Ignorant of the road-laws.
He was in his tattered clothes;
A poor village child he was.
I was sitting in a car
On the left of the driver.
When the car came near the child,
It was slowed by the driver.
He sounded aloud the horn,
But the child did not it care.
The child, in his tattered clothes,
Remained standing mutely there.
He was aping the gesture
Of the driver of the car.
How joyful in his action,
As if he were in the car!
He was moving round his arms
In driving his unreal car.
The driver, taking the side,
Safely steered his real car.
But a truck from the front side
Down the road speedily ran.
The child, in his tattered clothes,
The truck driver knocked and ran.
poem by Aziz Ahmad 'Aziz Moradabadi'
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