India Of My Dream

India Of My Dream short poem

Photo by Nisha A

Known by tiranga, is our developing nation,
Dreams come true, people play their part with passion ;
Civilised,cultured lilliputs with big hearts,
All together, love together is the dream for my nation…!

Salute to the soldiers, their attributes and sacrifices,
Value their relation left behind even after sun rises;
Corruption,terrorism, illiteracy or massacres,
Happy, if dream comes true, my nation leave these behind…!

Women empowerment, rise in education scope,
Are some visions moving ahead with hope;
Frame the constitution in better way,
Can enlighten the down trodden just by a light ray…!

Open your mind, the negativity cries,
To enlighten the kids, even the light dies;
Abolish the narrow mindedness, the untouchability,
Vision is mine, a country of all abilities…!

Dreaming that country where unity rains,
Dreaming that country where scam drains;
Vision of making disintegration wears manacles,
And does the democratic thought break the shackles…!

Stop the tears to cry,
Stop the blood to shed the blood;
Work for the dream India,
Make it a Clean India,Green India…!

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (1 votes, average: 3.00 out of 5)
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?

Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

Be the First to Comment & Review poem!

Notify of
avatar
wpDiscuz

My Only Friend

My Only Friend short poem

Am I Alive, or am I dead? Is this all just a dream inside my head? I feel like I’m losing my grip. Quick say something, anything before I slip. Nightmares slowly creeping. Has he finally come to do the

From My Journals ‘love’

From My Journals love short poem

The very essence of love is uncertain, A relentless thumping of the heart. I must speak to you by such means as they are within my reach. He pierces my soul driving me into madness. I am half agony, half

My Friend Crystal

My Friend Crystal long poem

I am the women that hasn’t been able to lose all her baby weight. I am the dad that works two jobs and always gets home late. I am the high school cheerleader trying to be someone shes not. I

Dream Evil

Dream Evil long poem

alone in my bed I lay still not able to pray I close my eyes to a world unknown cobwebs etched in the very fabric of my existence alone helpless with demonic bites viscous fangs with long stemmed dripping blood

From My Journals ‘anxiety’

From My Journals anxiety prose poem

The moon awaits eagerly in the same pedestal it ignited my passion. What lips, my lips have kissed, are long forgotten. The memories easily quickened as a few puddles along the way I voluntarily stepped in. What arms have lain