Probably.

 

 

It shines above the greenish meadows

And the heaps of dust and garbage

It spreads its hotness in summer

Not differentiating good and bad, fair and ugly

It is not tardy it comes on time every day

Actually, it never comes

We go down and see it rise

When we go down we call It sunrise

It is an illusion which persisted for far too long

When it rains, it hides behind the gaseous clouds

We think that it didn’t come up

We again forget that

It never comes up, we go down

Walking on a rainy day thinking

We didn’t go down today

A realization hits hard

We did go down

The clouds won’t let us see the sun

For centuries it stayed like that

We went down every day

To see its magnificence

People stay in prison for their entire life

Thinking that they will never come out

They are right

The earth always goes down

Even if we don’t see the sun

We go down

And it stayed like that

The barrier of fear always remains

Inside one’s mind

Even if some days are good

It doesn’t mean that fear eloped

It still exists inside covered with clouds of hope

But even if we go down to see the sun

Even if we never missed a single time

We are only probably right

Because maybe tomorrow we might not go down

The sun might not come up

The fear might go away

The hope might break the walls of prison

Because we are only probably right.

6 thoughts on “Probably.”

  1. A very emotional poem again, Shreyans. So often we live in hope, we live in probably and as you said, we live in its prison. Hope is such a strong thing. Sometimes if we dream and work hard enough, we will see a better tomorrow 🙂

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