THE PAIN: a sonnet

THE PAIN: a sonnet


O Lord, this pain is so unbearable,
The pain of being not well understood;
Of being labelled as one unable
To distinguish the lone tree from the wood.

Sometimes they say I know next to nothing,
As if I claimed I know there’s all to know.
I hope when it is time for the parting,
You will, on all, Your kind blessings bestow.

You can change the heart of the prodigal.
You can give wisdom to one who lacks it.
You can put sense in the nonsensical.
You are the one who gives final verdict.

Let this be said of me when I am gone:
A path of logic, virtue, he had shown.


M C Gupta
21 March 2009