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Greet.

Hello world! I am Adityaa Wagh, 16, India! And this blog will contain my poems and works. Hope you like it. 

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THE LENSMAKER

We all have been imparted a vision by the so called ' Lensmaker ' - God! If we're all equal in the eyes of God then why are our visions so diff erent ? THE LENSMAKER                               - 20 Sept' 15 Oh Lensmaker sitting up there, How could you be so unfair. Gifting eyes of vision to all, But eyes seeing the truth are rare. It would've been better if you had blessed each one of us this blessing, But instead you left some of my friends in a game of guessing. Guessing how the world looks like! The ones who can never witness the sunset nor could go on an adventurous hike. We seldom use the eyesight to appraise the beauty of things; like adoring a scoop hot chocolate fudge, The only thing we do with our eyes today is to judge! We bifurcate each other under fat, short ,tall, thin very skillfully, Better are blind people who treat every person on the planet equally.✨ Why only...
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Cyanide and Happiness!

Disappointed Stan was walking on the shore, Without a spouse his life had become a bore. Sadly walking by the riverside, He bumped into a lady licking a bar of cyanide. Astounded at first, His eyes started to burst. Keenly Observing the lady with whom did he just collide, The lady holding the bar of cyanide. She held his hand both started walking, And then the lady started talking. So here I meet my guide, You helped me discover I could too taste cyanide. Wearing a red dress and carrying an umbrella, She stated her name was Abella.  The only difference between them was that she did hide, Her talent of tasting cyanide. Abella ate that bar in front of him to lure, While Stan felt deeply insecure. Because there was girl by his side, Who also had declared the taste of cyanide! They talked and walked every evening, And celebrated their brand new beginning. And after their early morning cycle ride, They shared a bar of cyanide. Then he dropped her at her home, ...
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Paying Guest

At this apartment called life, Many showed their true colors, Some of them faded with time, While the brightest was hers. This apartment called life, Rented by many, painted by one. There were some tenants before her, But amongst them she was the best, I wish I could keep her forever, But she was just a paying guest. When life was lonely and I was about to rust, She came and gave me the definition of trust. Calmed me down when I was robust, Taught me the difference between love & lust. She always said she didn't have a talent, But for the first time she was wrong, Her talent was to enrich the soul of others, And flourish their good qualities along. I still remember the good old days, When I was trough and she was crest, Life was rough but she used give her best, She moved away then, She was just a paying guest. Staying away from her was a tragedy, Not just a girl but she was a remedy; Of my deepest cuts, of my lightest sprain, I just hope someday we me...
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