Posted in poetry

Nostalgia, what a funny feeling…

Not a lot of people talk about the transitions of life,
the ones where you grow up, learn how to survive and thrive;

I remember the uniforms, the summer daze, and the haste to play games;

I remember the stress, the anxiety, the boredom, the distress of being small in the totality of adulthood;

I remember the cement ground and the dirt I fell in, the slide I played on, and the field I ran to play tag in;

I remember the many classrooms, the laughter, the shenanigans, the solidarity of hard work;

I remember the best friends and the friends you shared stories with at 3 am;

I remember climbing on desks and in shelves and writing on whiteboards;

I remember the cafeteria conversations and underrated free times between classes;

I remember the quiet, playful, and desperate days in labs;

I remember joy and grief but also love;

I remember each and every person with each distinct quality, by each fond memory;

Nostalgia, what a funny feeling.

Posted in poetry

Knitted – law & justice

Pin up the evidence, 

it’s proof against those who are dense.

Its a sight to behold, 

a sense of a torturous chokehold.

Scenic views only cover so much, 

the false reassurances tip-off too much.

Street full of people, 

the public prosecution making you seem feeble.

Hell for those who are far and few, 

leaving the smallest things for them to stitch and sew.

A trap of a false sense of security, 

dissatisfaction from the locality made abnormality;

Disdain and disappointment is a plague, 

reasons to torment are left vague.

Those who suffer, brawl… 

those who are to blame, crawl. 

A stitched together narrative…

left for comfortable perception, a tragedy sealed as comparative.

Posted in poetry, Stories

She

She wandered. Wandered far away from her home… 

She strolled. Strolled further and further with each step, with each passing minute…

She glowed. Glowed with the burning golden aura of her compelling curse…

She pondered. Pondered about the world she was leaving behind…

She dreamt. Dreamt of the life she would’ve had with enough time…

She felt. Felt the grass, the earth, the flowers beneath her for one last time…

She cried. Cried to let out the frustration that enveloped her now feeble self…

She lost. Lost herself in her own mind, sheltered in that safety, warming to the comfort of a clear mind for one last moment…

She fell. Fell on her knees in agony, light exploding from inside her…

She burned. Burned, until her physical being was just ashes, dull against the psychedelic spectrum of the colours of nature…

She let go… freeing herself once and for all…

Posted in poetry

Too Much

Never really spoke too much,
Never really heard too much,
Never really saw too much,
But here I am thinking.

Never really looked too much,
Never really focused too much,
Never really judged too much,
But here I am caring.

Never really strayed too much,
Never really rebelled too much,
Never really refuted too much,
But here I am failing.

Thought this was transparent
But now, its all really blurry…