Wingword Poetry Competition 2025

By Neha Kumari

उम्र के पड़ाव से
आदमी हर वक़्त लड़ता है
जैसा भी हो,
वक़्त बदलता है।

By Aastha Bagdi

On my way to classes,
I looked around me.
I look every day—
but today felt different.

By Ahaan Sinha 

I love you, and I fear for you, worry about you, and care for you, the sands of time ever passing and through It I came across you my mouth left agape and me guessing

By Yashas Acharya

Towards a cold and early morn
Medieval furnace summoned from
A cease-fire slumber through the night
Now out of the dark; unto the light!

By Atula Sharma

 Intersecting or parallel
 You live by yours
 And I, by mine
 Fractured outside or worse, within!

By Namrata Singh

Spring hasn’t kissed the blooms,
New leaves haven’t adorned the trees and are yet to find their grooves,

By Advika Maheshwary

I am lost, adrift, and helpless
somewhere in the Atlantic sea.
I am not in the comfort of my home
I am not with my family.

 By Parul Kejriwal

 Can crying lessen the pain in my heart?
 Can the storm of contemplative thoughts 
 Calm down someday?
 Can catharsis make me forget all the miseries I faced?

By Richa Srivastava

लौ मेरे रज दीप की,
द्योतक है
अनवरत प्रस्फुटित ऊर्जा ,
सतत अध्यनरत प्राण एवं
प्रतीति भावना की ।

By Maria Thomas 

Congrats! It's a girl. Swaddled in blankets, Pink bows and clips.
Little did I know, The words marked the beginning Of an end.

By Aditya Maheshwary

I saw a small dog one winter day.
We played, ran and chased each other, always.
She was my good pal, but then she passed away.
She was my loyal buddy all the way.

By Kleeb (Tejaswini Joshi)

बाभळीची बाग माझी,
फुलली तर फुले नाहीत,
रुतायाला काटे मला,
फुलायाची बाब नाही।

By Lucky Noor

ਮੀਂਹ ਦੇ ਵਿੱਚ ਨਹਾਉਣਾ ਚਾਹੁਣਾ,
ਬੱਚਿਆਂ ਵਾਂਗਰ ਹੋਣਾ ਚਾਹੁਣਾ।
ਵੱਡਾ ਹੋ ਕੇ ਥੱਕ ਗਿਆ ਹਾਂ,
ਮਾਂ ਦੀ ਗੋਦ 'ਚ ਸੌਣਾ ਚਾਹੁਣਾ।

By Huda Zafreen

Little hands search the garbage,
For food to eat, 
But find carnage. 
Scrawny limbs, see-through skin

By Sarita Kalia

चलो आज ज़िंदगी से हिसाब करते हैं,
क्या खोया, क्या पाया, बात करते हैं।
सज़ा तो तुमने मुझे दी,
कसूर भी बता देते—यही बात करते हैं।

By Priyanka Goel

The relentless night; a stranger in sight...
A flash of those swift limbs
Trepidation mounting to the brim,
The heart's tempo on a surge

By Swapnoja Chakraborty

Manic pixie dream girl smokes a vape.
Cinnamon-orange masks the taste
Of absence and involuntary solitude
In the humdrum tatters of her life.

By Sindhu Sreekumar

The little finger lifted —
just slightly —
off the edge of the sofa,
angled the way my father’s used to
when he stroked across a blank canv

By Daania Pakle 

 I was stuck and I had fallen down,
 When I got a letter from tomorrow.
 It told me to get tougher and be stronger,
 Because tomorrow is going to be harder.

By DEBJYOTI DAS

 Harsh clapping from the streets
 Caught the little girl's attention,
 Peeping out of the window,
 She got glimpse of three ugly women.

By Mohammad Umam Ehsani 

Oh that bliss of yours; Are these breathes really mine Like moonlight it kisses me; Am I really still alive?

By Abhinav Jha

Have you
seen a human burn
have you?
When the fire
has consumed
the skin and cloth

By Sambhu Ramachandran 

Dear child, you turned me into a polyglot overnight. I found myself staring hard  at the fine print of loss in every language 

By Aditi Surha 

In a pool of her own blood, ashamed and afraid, she runs— not from pain, but from the shame poured into her long before she learned the word for it.

By Viraj Shinde

When thy pains are not at all same,
Then why all says it’s just a game ?,
Taunters are always giving thy blame,
Hard work, struggles are only you claimed.

 By Harshitha Anaparthi

 I woke before the alarm,
 but didn’t get out of bed.
 I waited — patiently —
 for the alarm to do its job.

By Apurva Sinha 

How many more Deaths I've to face? How many more cursed breeze I've to feel? How many more lamenting nights Without thou lively light  I've to co-opt?

By Dipak Dikshit 

ফ্যাঁচ ফোঁচ, খুক খুক
লেগে থাকে হরদম,
শোঁ শোঁ, হ্যাঁচো হ্যাঁচো
চলে যে জোরকদম।
নাকেতে নস্যি গোঁজা

By Priti Majumder 

What I lost ,it wasn't for me, then why did I struggle for it , Why did I cry for it ,
Why did I pray for it , What I lost it wasn't for me  It takes time to absorb
It wasn't for me.

By Ayan Hossain

The plethora of emotions, spontaneous and robust,
Like my frustration, with a little touch of abundance burst.