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Thinking of how
They write poetries
Manage to talk
Of flower and of trees..
They write endlessly
As if they are
Never short of inspiration
It appears at times as if
Melancholy to them
Seems much like fun!
They twist and turn
And play and shun the words
Do they even understand
Their own creations afterwards?
Either confusing the world
Or are they confused themselves?
Spotting double entendres
Is as if spotting elves!
To infinity they write
Must they be feeling love
When the world recites?
But while so involved
In oneself are they
Even fascinated by spotlights?

Day after day
The picture
Of self
Suffers a blur
Holding it back
Seems so
Dilemma after dilemma
It fades and fades
Under no unhealthy
Influence dependencies
Time after time
A part of self
Itself buries.
As if something
Is about to extinct
Or the whole of self
Even in the light
It feels so dark
To separate from
The world, it itself
Creates an unseen arc.
Coping should have
Never been the resort
Tears hate it
Bet after beat!

Seeking happiness
In independence
Fighting for it
Every moment
Looking up to
Dishonesty even
But it seems so
Worth it.
Risking relationships
Although they anyway
Don’t seem to care
Beyond a mere a
Pretended responsibility.
Day after day
They continue
To grow malice
Using all sorts
Of reasons as tokens.
Lately its been
Much more easy
To rise up
To despair
Making you feel
A victim among
The ones so close
To the heart.
You wish, pray
To runaway
Or pray for
Your own downfall
And a final collapse.
For peace.

What I hope they never feel
Throughout the little big
Journey we walk together
Is stuck in the feelings
That both of us are
Living, enjoying, respecting
While we unknowingly
Care first for the other
Before ourselves.
The acceptance and
Togetherness and the
Communication is more than
Just enough for me now
And till whenever possible.
Its strange and and even
I fail to understand when
I’m just okay to accept everything
As it is without any negotiations.
Even the good and the not so good parts.
There is no place for worse
There is hurt and many tears
But never that I have felt so
Pure at heart that I’d know
I’d be just okay whatsoever
At the end of the day
Only celebrating that what
Has already been lived.
Feeling the connection
Maybe even without communication.
All I want them to feel throughout
Is that they are free
Because that’s the best of them
I have been in love with
I’ll continue being that
As long as I can.
That perhaps not something I can stop
I don’t even have the control
If I do, I’m probably
Running away from being myself.
In the past months definitions
Have changed to an extent where
Insecurities, assurances
Hardly mean anything now.
Presence feels good
And will continue to feel good
But if at any point it has to
Stop I’ll be just glad
For having living the best
That I have had so far..
All I want and can afford
For them is their smile and comfort
Which means far more to me.
I’ll still live a wonderful life
With them or maybe with
Wonderful memories.
For now I hope they
Follow their heart
And work towards being that person
They see themselves to be.

It might be something
Really, really awesome
Everybody close to my heart
Is so fascinated by it!
I also want to try
I also want the taste
Of that euphoria that
They seem to be so much in love.
All this time I criticized
But never realized that
I could be the one who is wrong
Maybe I really was.
I cannot ask them to stop
But there is no compulsion
Why I should myself start
But I feel I need it in my cart!
They all say its unhealthy
Still getting back to it
Over and again
I also want the feeling they gain.
I won’t ask them to stop
Maybe I’ll start it myself
There’s definitely something
That I might be missing.
I want to be like them
They all are my favorite
They all are so awesome
For me to love they sum.
Because I can’t ask them to stop
I’m too vulnerable
And my words aren’t as effective
But like them at least I can live.
Then maybe I won’t have to
Ask all of them to stop
They won’t ask me to stop too
Together we’ll will live in the blue.

The little efforts
That he is making everyday
To become a better person
Make me feel so, so proud of him
And of being with him
I see he is trying so hard
Even though he refuses to see it
Every time that he
Skipped the unhealthy
Or even tries to do
He only made me want to
Hug him tight and
Embrace him enough
Because I believe in him
And I believe in his strengths
To fight any, dreary situation
He has the power. A lot of it.
He does. To deal with all of it.

Insecurity is so insane
It makes the the trust
Feel so taken aback
It makes you mad
As if all you want
To do is breakup
With the world
For all the reasons
You can’t explain
It doesn’t happen
Like this very often
But probably the city
Has welcomed someone
Not so happy news for you
Because somewhere in the
Back of your mind
You know they are taking away
The time you thought was yours
Yet again, this is not certain
This is the way mind thinks
And it over-thinks
Because that is the closest to
What it can think
Not even giving a slight thought
To the deep trust that exist
Insecurity to itself cannot resist.

I believe in him
I’ll always do
And never want to stop
Even if he is a criminal
And I’m a cop.
I believe in him
To be the strong man
Who can overcome vulnerabilities
You know he has
Very impressing abilities.
I believe in him
To try his the best
Like most computer games
He’ll even be to
Finish this quest.

Outside college I see her everyday,
Waiting for her son
Looking for him everywhere
Its high time everybody
Already stopped to care.

Often so distracted
She moves all around
Finally decides to sit
Everyday her actions
Don’t forget to repeat.

At the first glance
Most think she’s neurotic
Maybe she really is
Can’t move on
From memories of his.

She is a woman
Who lost her son
If her you ever happen to inspect
You’ll get a true glimpse of
What’s it like to live in retrospect.

On the crossroads to nowhere,
While sounding so oxymoron
That’s exactly how tousled it is
It sluggishly halts at a yawn
As if being acquired
By the heinous lethargy
And to it falling a frail prey
Its all so grey.
Even failing to analyze
Something that is
Calling to criticize
Its shameless disguise.
It feels like ADD
Not knowing what ADD
Really, actually feels like
Blame it on roads for looking alike.
Creativity fails while
Over-thinking battles for its success
The leftover comes out as procrastination
Trying all roads was bought in auction.


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