Bricked

Few stripes of coloured hair,
self judgemental mirror,
A loathed fat tummy
And everything,
bricked mind which has
failed to perfect the shell,
too dormant to notice
the inner soul,
that everyone misses out
while looking for the soothing pink!
The paper and ink
opened the shell
to discover new,
better questions!
A new soul for the mind
to accept and adore!

A drizzle...

The droplets drizzling inside my room,
I feel them on my arms,
The memories flashing inside my
Head in sequence and
Me, unable to stop it..
It's drizzling and I feel cold,
But I can't move myself to close
the window!
The guilt and regret,
making me hate myself more,
The silent suffering,
the unspeakable language,
the girl dying inside!

Hopeless heart...

It gets stirred in a flash,
gets attached to thorns
and embraces the pain,
the scar upon.
As much as it loves
the concept of love,
it's most hated thing
is itself!
the newborn, the kid,
the teen and the granny,
all in one, taking turns,
it being in a constant dizz...
the delightful food,
the soothing music,
the soulful nature,
But it nurtures on
the crazy love...

You never had..

a balloon up in the air,
flying away..
that beautiful Daisy
you didn't wanna pluck..
that amazing piece of art
which was not for sale..
that alluring aroma
you never sensed again..
that ripe yellow fruit,
at the top of a tree..
that perfect cup of coffee,
you never made again..
those mesmerizing pair of eyes,
you never saw again..
that magical word
you never heard again..
that piece of music
you hear only in your heart..
that addictive pain of losing
something,
you never had...

The bus..

The lines are running backwards,
the green grass wave, greeting us,
Wind playing with my hair,
The sleepy guy, loud guy
the crying baby,
And the staring granny,
The cattle, waking up the driver,
the curves of the road
Rocking us on board,
We keep moving forward,
With the sun,
With the moon.

The bitch

She was there stumbling over stones,
on the road.
Shivering in cold,
Feeling my hold,
lids half closed,
so frail and tiny.
She dined milk,
a longing lick
for the boned and bogged
tum of hers.
She was blind,
I didn't know.
Her stumbling legs
pawing in air,
Tiny thin tail
Swirling around
to play.
The next morning
All I heard was her scream
somewhere.
She was there,
her lightless eyes
reflecting them,
She was there,
No blood,
No wounds,
No scars,
And no breath.

Grey heart

It was cloudy.
Dawn and dusk looked the same.
Sun rays in vanity,
Everything looked grey.
What's beyond can't be seen.
The dim silence silencing my heart,
the matching rhythm,
the grey rhythm.
A  call for clarity,
but just a cold wind.
A call for light,
just a lamp post.
Fed up with whines,
the heart which is numb,
takes all the pain,
sees all the light,
felt all the vain,
yet loves the grey day,
the most.
It doesn't give clarity,
but gives the hope for a change.
It shows suffocation,
but also shows survival.
It plays the faint song
a grey heart sings...