She looks around with pleading eyes
Yet, none look at her for a thrice
She cries out for the world to hear
All she receives is a deaf ear.
Locked within her four solid walls
She waits in vain for returned calls
She writhes around and cuts her skin
And hurls her sick into the bin.
She never thought, but yet it seems,
The world would not accept her dreams.
Where’s the beauty in that
face in the reflection?
Others are near perfect.
why am I imperfection?
Maybe its true, that I
wasn’t meant to be born.
That is what they all say,
they look at me with scorn.
Beauty might be skin deep
but I wish I had some
It’s hard to be wistful
It’s harder to keep mum.
I do not want glamour
my face put on a screen-
Just somewhere to belong
and not be so obscene.
She looks like a goddess,
has reason to be vain.
Me on the other hand?
I am not even plain.
I walked past a morgue today.
Pictures of gore and pain graced my mind.
I stared at the bolted door
Fascinated.
I let my mind wander free
And was possessed by the terrifying thought
Of one day finding you encased
by its sterile walls.
I cannot give you up
I need your optimism in my life
I can’t give you in
to the gods in heaven
that you’re so fond of believing in.
But it’s not in my hands
To hold back a soul
Whose time has expired.
I wonder if I might break
If I see your bod go up in flames.
Or if I might be overjoyed
That sorrow can no more
Imprison you in his skeleton fist.
Harsh words –
They draw crimson,
And they push you into a ravine
Of sordid self loath.
They make – forget
Little cheers and ecstasies
Till festering wounds
Become your only vice,
And a happy world
Is naught more than make – believe.
The sun shines oft and sure
Yet icicles form
Inside your entrails
Making you writhe in agony.
Golden smiles are all around
You plaster one on to mirror them all
But yours, my love, shines far fairer
For underneath it
Burns a pyre of despair
.
I traverse through the realm of sleep
Where night wakes and its mares leap
Where nocturnal prowlers wander
Looking in vain for a gander.
The nasty chill seeps into bones
Hums of insects blend into moans.
The poison river tiptoes on
Remaining black and foul till dawn.
Sinister echoes fill the air.
Dreadful, uncouth, ill is this lair.
Former flowers droop down in wilt
In this joyless planet of filth.
Sometimes, she wishes her heart would break
Rather than fuelling this constant ache.
An eternal void that fills her soul.
That now stands to be her only bole.
Curled up into a ball
against a sturdy wall.
Her sobs scream of sorrow,
hopelessness of ‘morrow.
She shirks from all contact –
her despair could contract
all those who sat beside.
In Hell she must reside.
Her serpent body shake.
She wails like dying drake.
Wishing to shoot her dead.
Forever rest in bed.
She remembers sunshine and laughter
The way they skipped stones in the water
Her sanity clings onto those times
When they could forget the wall clocks chimes.
She’d journey to the jaws of a beast
If it would help prolong his last feast
She’d then hold his hand till his bell tolled
And she grew sick from the bitter cold.
His smile was all she could hold on to
It’s soon bound to grow icy and blue.
(A/N This is a poem made entirely from lyrics of various songs (Try to guess which ones :D). I have read that this is a form of poetry but have forgotten what it’s called… do tell me if any of you know… Also, criticism and suggestions are most welcome of course.)
There was a time
I had a heart then
That made
Pavements shine like silver
Even brighter than the moon
Once upon a time
The world was a song
And we taught them all to sing along
Every time I closed my eyes
I swear I could fly
I made it through the wilderness
A long long journey
But now
I can’t even breath (or)
Stop for a minute and smile…
And it’s too late to go back to sleep (because)
It all went wrong.
The queen has been overthrown
And I’ve become so numb.
Exams – the bane of every students existence. Come February, they are all over the place. Studying studying and more studying – and for what? A little number or a grade on a paper. Let’s face it – no great thinker has been created because he (or she) studied for a darn exam.
I think exams (at least the ones I have to take) don’t even bother to test the right skills. What does one get out of memorising a bunch of facts and writing them out on paper within a certain time limit? Or drawing pretty diagrams of animals and plants? I’ll answer that question – nothing – nada, zilch, zero.
So why do I write exams? Because I don’t have a darn choice. I’ve got to write exams if I want to get into a good college and be successful and all of that.
I know that’s a pretty old meme, but its rather amusing… and it’s true (sort of).
Gasp! I actually made sense 