Coming Back Home

Dad I didn’t jell up well, loved you mom

For money I moved out, changed Zone,

Had fun with girls and drinks, still alone

It’s a cruel world and I am coming home.

 

I visited once, to the nearby market,

It was full of people, and no one I know.

I am not a kid now, but a man, mid twenty,

Still I miss the days when you warned me,

 

Not to talk to strangers, because they are bad.

Strangers are all I know, “friends” once I had

Now I know people, I do business with,

But they just want me to sell,

Feel so lost and sometimes I yell,

 

I tried different girls, jobs were always hectic,

Targets were almost set, to kill me at it

Will cut budget to save money on that “Big Car”

I don’t like the food here; I iron my own scar.

 

I am surrounded by jungle, all dust

Malls, theaters, office, box of concrete.

Yes, I have made mistakes, but then,

My life didn’t carry the instruction sheet.

 

All those metro fantasies are now gone.

For money I moved out, changed Zone,

Had fun with girls and drinks, still alone

I miss you dad, I miss you mom

It’s a cruel world and I am coming home.

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32 thoughts on “Coming Back Home

  1. Rishabh Upadhyay, thanks for checking out my blog today. Great poem; thought provoking. We’ve all been there; perhaps all still there to some degree.

  2. Rishabh,

    so much to love about this poem,… mmm… where to begin?

    Just for a moment I stopped
    for a short spell,
    at “metro fantasies”
    wondering what stories
    they might have to tell,
    But then I went back to that old, “scar”
    which I couldn’t leave alone,
    like that wobbly kid’s tooth
    of that man now grown,
    showing me who you are.

    • I am trying to unveil, Still unsure
      Who i am? What my purpose are?
      Failed attempts, at trying to cure,
      My faded, yet beautiful little scar.
      Stories at metro were always spark,
      Only issue is, i am afraid of dark.
      I am moving places, yet un-moved
      So many thoughts, no place to park.

      Seeds have now grown, to cereals,
      You see me through, and it feels nice
      kids have grown much before age
      Farmers will now harvest the rice
      Broken tooth were all better,
      All we face now are broken heart,
      Its a piece from Metro Fantasies
      rest will come, in some other part.

      till then
      cheeriossss….
      🙂

      • pieces of a broken heart
        may be harvested still
        who knows.
        For now, ‘Till then’s’ are
        all we have, and
        final cheeriossss….. : -)

  3. Really sad, searingly sad poem. That “iron my own scar” line is magic. You ever listen to The Band? There’s a lyric “stampeding cattle… they rattle the walls.” Gives me the same feeling. Odd and strange and… strangely effective.

  4. Hi! Thanks for stopping by my blog. It gave me an opportunity to explore yours……and, boy, are you an awesome writer or what! Really great thoughts. This piece of yours echoes the sentiments of all young people today. Looking forward to reading more great stuff from you. Cheers!

  5. Pingback: Revealing me… (Conversations) « Fading Meta

  6. Hey, thanks for passing by on my blog. I just thought of scrolling through some of your poems, but I was actually really touched by this one. Hope you still can go home and you took/take the chance to do it! I wished I could.

  7. “I miss you dad, I miss you mom
    It’s a cruel world and I am coming home.”
    Having repeated these lines leaves a greater impact on the reader’s mind. well written!

  8. I particularly like the lines ‘I iron my scar’ and ‘My life didn’t carry an instruction sheet’. The whole poem is great though, very feeling and has that ‘real-lifeness’ to it. Beautiful.
    Thanks for checking out my blog too! 🙂

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