Wingword Poetry Competition 2025

By Anjelin John 

Ruins, everything is lost. The home we once knew; Burnt, and crumbled to pieces.

By Rosha Sandesh

Gutters on skin, sticks for bones,

 she walks weakly on land that groans.

 Years-old plastics become her shoes,

By Agonthina N. Marak

I mourned alone through the heavy night,

 With no stars lit in the mourning sky.

 My mother gave me her surname —

By Debanjana Sinha Roy 

Okay. So, next life same time. You'll still wait for me at the stand, Watching me chase dandelions in the air, unborn to despair, steadfast in love.

Adya Mohanka

Did you see?
 The falling leaves,
 The fading sun
 That whispered, life’s so fun.

Sakshi Sharma

She asked 
 Will we make it to other side
 Like lovers do? 

By Seema Agarwal

L💖VE, the treasure beyond measure, flows when connected to its source. Fills the heart with unabiding joy with force 

By Sharnya Priyadarshi 

I joined them, a crowd disoriented, along the beach, positioned. 
A few longed for a shoulder, while some yearned for drinks with a ‘cheers’.

By Nasrin Shahnaz

A story of four travellers,

 Three generations of literature lovers.

 Ridding on a modern car,

Poushali Maitra

Ma ate alone,
 behind our cheer.
 From a plate too small,
 it would appear.

Hiba Mansuri 

“Nostalgia is a killer,”
 As some people say, 
 It makes us beg 
 For to be sent back to what was safe.
 

By Aditi Jaiswal

They say that roots are sacred things,

 Entwined in Gods and golden rings.

 ""Obey and learn that respect isn’t earned;

Joshmee Nidhi

All those years I disowned my inner-self 
 whispering my truth which I did not listen 
  I suffered. 

By Piyali De

মেয়েটাকে রোজ দেখি,জানা হয়নি ওর নাম,

 কি এসে যায় নামে? জীবন তো সেই একইরকম,কপালে বদনাম।

 নয়নতারা নাম দি যদি, দুর্গা অথবা সীতা;

Shamitaa Arora

It started with us stumbling onto a ship,
 A wrecking ship,
 But that wasn't the worst part because there was you,
 You, with whom I had shared a woeful amount of years with,

By Chetan Bhatnagar

My experience of the rubble is a lie.

It is fabricated. I do not know how the textures of stone, soil, and cement feel anywhere except my feet.

Sahana Artheya 

When a baby begins to cry,
 The flowers crawl back into the ground
 The dogs believe Diwali’s come early
 Birds flock to a new stretch of sky 

Baala Srinidhi Guda

Felt like your shadow
 My heart is everywhere you are,
 Always around you.
 Just a shadow,

By Nikita Sahay 

सरहद के निगेहबान, क्या  लिखुँ मैं तेरे लिए, ओ मेरे शूरवीर जवान, लेखनी में मेरे वो दम नहीं, जो कर सके तेरी बखान,

By Aditi Mishra 

The person in the mirror isn’t me as I stare at my unfamiliar reflection in the aftermath of a nightmare.

Ishika Kalai

The Day My Brother Was Born
 I remember,
 Vividly,

By Narendra Kumar

 Life is nothing but just a game

 Some play for fun some for fame

 Some of us are mere spectators

By Prathulya Devi Chakrapani 

I'm afraid to pick my quill. My hands tremble. When I pen down the scribble—they quaver in anguish, in vain, mostly in disdain.

Soundarya Malyala

I don't recognize her anymore—
 this person sitting in front of me.

By Prasharsha Sooraj 

All anticipated eyes, as I was born with assured cries, to bring the golden glitters, and gently emit their bitters.

Asfiya Ayub

A chilled crisp cooling sensation,
 making its way through the covered skin,

Anshika Agrawal

Maiden dreams of sky
 Unaware of how to fly
 Heart lights with apricity 
 Mind craves opportunity

By Jhangir Hassan

Defeat, defeat, oh defeat,
I was conditioned to be fearful of you,

Priyanshu Sharma

In a far away universe,
 Even Cupid and Venus would have wept,
 Witnessing how pristine my love is for you
 And how much I've endured

By Cephra Fernandes 

If someone asks you, what type of person I am? Tell them she is scared of heights but will be the first one up a cliff looking down.