The Story Of Change
The Story Of Change2 mins 130 2 mins 130
Don't you dare to measure me,
For I have my own parameters.
Just embrace me,
If you seek life's growth in diameters.
Since I am known as Change,
Purest form of innocence,
With no revenge.
With me, you can go to places.
Without me, you will loose growth's paces.
Tough to be thought,
Tougher to be adapted.
I am the Change,
Toughest to get apt at.
But as they say,
Tougher makes life easier.
So here I am to burn with you,
To melt the glacier.
Don't get me confused,
With my definitions so bright.
Because somewhere you also know,
That Change is some big fright.
Not that I look ugly,
But I am beyond this silly game,
And trust me, its never bubbly.
So coming to my dark side,
Is the hypocrisy of humankind.
That though I am praised a lot,
But very rare immediately embrace and abide.
My name is labelled as game,
Since the time immemorial.
When the Early man, first saw an alien.
Or you can say, they met me,
In form of astronaut.
But all the could do was to flee,
And those who stayed, fought.
Post that, I have always been,
Denied, abhorred, despised and prohibited,
In the name of culture and habitat.
A name so progressive,
Is turned into a deed so depressive.
That just name is praised,
But trait not embraced.
Accepted or not,
Embraced or not,
Loved or not,
Changed or not,
I will still be the Change,
Just a bit trapped and chained,
In aspirations and executions,
In dreams and fulfillment,
In praises and practicality.
But I am the Change,
Despite it all,
The worry is only on human part.
If this is the way human kind departs.
Change should be all about the end,
Never the start.
But alas! This change has little more heart,
Than human's complex mind and little heart.
So I come to humans,
In form of challenge,
In form of revenge,
In form of avenge.
They can also find me crying in that fading smile,
Where a child's dream is killed,
In the name of worthwhile.
I can be found laughing hysterically,
In the tears flown secretly,
By that girl, who got hitched,
And came to another home, like a lily.
She is turned into a wallflower,
Whose task is to abide and just be a follower.
I, the Change, on such sights,
Often reach the ventilator.
My traces can be found in every step,
But I prefer to put ball,
Always in human's court.
His sensibility is then a better judge,
Whether to embrace change,
Or just to make a fuss.