To the Students

I see the young, I see the old,
I see their every face.
I see the world in sands of time,
With oceans in the race.
I see you going school-high school,
Where through silence wades.
I see your quarrels rise with age,
Your love but never fades.
I see you going to colleges,
Your life with highs and lows.
I see you in the sky and dream,
You really know your foes (?) .
And when you learn to work and trust,
And rise above the odds;
To strive n' thrive with zeal and zest.
To fight against the frauds.
With faith in God, you'll get the chance,
To blow the sands of time;
And offer me, "Osama! We have
Made your every rhyme.

poem by Osama Waqar
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Delicious Solitude

O' What a throbbing attitude,
For my delicious solitude.

For on the grass yet greenly still,
And in the gardens of the hill.
Shall I go about it all,
I'm neither tall nor am I small.

And with the same distrust in eyes,
I cannot even take long sighs.
I have to try and try again.
To make one shiny ray to ten.

Up the mountain of success,
I will go- whatever distress
To seek the glory of my might,
And burn a candle in the night.

To learn and rise no matter what,
To study and sense what nature taught.

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poem by Osama Waqar
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Expression Of Happiness

I feel like flying with the wind,
I feel like snowing all around.
I feel like seeing something new,
I feel like hearing nature's sound.
I feel like rowing the youngest boat,
I feel like roaring like the hound.

I feel like having a good night's sleep,
I feel like living in my hut.
I feel like rising ‘bove the odds,
I feel like making the sin-gate shut.
I feel like riding the success' horse,
I feel like cutting off the cut.

I feel like blowing my way out,
I feel like shutting the gates of doom.
I feel like fishing like the fish,
I feel like rooming like the room.
I feel like shining like the star.
I feel like grooming my entire groom.

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poem by Osama Waqar
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Afraid To Face The Fact

The truth of life, the wealthiest health,
The cause of good, a happiest act.
The need of love, the sky above;
We are afraid to face the fact.

The powerless power, the lifeless life,
The truth unspoken, the pain intact;
The nicest of things, the powers of thought,
We are afraid to face the fact.

The skies' a blue, the sound of ‘woo'*,
The rivers have shrunk, the stars react,
The storms noise**; and peoples too;
We are afraid to face the fact.

The rights wrong; the wrongs of right,
The nature of natures; shall keep the pact,
The time has come, the time of flight,
We are afraid to face the fact.

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poem by Osama Waqar
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Poor Unfortunate Souls

How poor unfortunate souls they are;
Who neither know nor care to know,
What causes purity in the snow,
What causes sunshine in the hay.

That do not know the realities,
What pains and sorrows are given by hate,
What lifeless things so captivate,
What peace and charm thrives in the seas.

What yearns the trees and bees to grow,
What makes it special -our human lives;
What things in you that success drives,
What takes the ego, of things to throw.

Needless they be, yet are deceitful
These colourless souls, these powerless minds,
Of morality, of types and kinds,
Of what it takes to be the fruitful.

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poem by Osama Waqar
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The Main Question

Am I to live as to live my life?
Am I to burn in the fire of fate?
Am I to learn what I know not?
Am I to seek the will to thrive?

Was I to speak? O' and against the odds?
Was I to fight with the valour in heart?
What global revenge? What mighty despair?
What fret is rising? What silence nods?

The enormous glories of freedom and me?
The challenging worries of life and me?
The rising discriminant of evil and me?
The illusional powers of fate and me?

The engraving dangers and will to fight?
Am I in my senses? Am I in my might?
Am I to be deceived in the scary night?
Or am I to learn the powers of light?

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poem by Osama Waqar
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And The Light Shines Upon........

Ah! Islamic republic of Pakistan! Isn't it so?
By the facts n' figures and truth n' lies it is not.
The cheery land, once deserved by them;
We do not merit this. Oh! What a shame?
The depth of its waters, once observed by them;
We do not observe them. Oh! What a shame?
The height of its snowy peaks, once climbed by them;
We do not even think of climbing them. Oh! What a shame!
The faith of the people, once inherited;
We do not carry it on-our culture, our society, our life.
Oh! What a shame! What a shame!
What an infamy! What a disgrace!
But I redeem this ideology,
I buy back this appalling fire,
I cash in this atrocious prospect,
That once again,
The sun will rise,
The mountains of darkness will perish,
By the stone of hope, by the light within.
I reflect on this as optimism-

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poem by Osama Waqar
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Along The Road, In The Morning

Along the road in the morning,
I saw the sun horning n' horning.
I saw the sky; turning blue,
I saw the light giving the clue.
That ‘get on with life' and with the cart,
The clue that rises in the heart.
The clue that gives a thought to the mind,
‘Go and get the characters of the kind'.
Fetch the early morning bride,
Take a look at the thinking site,
Along the site, know your side.
Along the road in the morning.

And after I put my shoes to bed,
The sun came up to me and said;
"Why don't you humans do early rise? "
"Why don't you stand with the wise? "
"You guys do know that health is wealth,
Then why are you not trying your stealth? "
Wonder what the problem I guess is,

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poem by Osama Waqar
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