Can I choose not to Pretend?

could i have the liberty

not to pretend

pretend to be happy and glowing

could i today just scream to the world

i feel the pain, my heart is pained

shall i just vomit them all out

all the tears i kept inside my eyes for many years

shall i just cleanse myself 

of all the misery, this fake world ever caused me

today, can i just forget all my etiquette

just be myself, crying it all out

would you tell me

O dear world

do i have your permission

not to pretend 

just for today?

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My love – My Seasons

you fill me with fragrance

with flowers glowing to your breeze

spreading the colors of imagination

yeah, you are my Spring my love

I sweat waiting for you for hours

without worrying about the heat

uncle sun shows his magic

making you my Summer, my love

I shed my tears for you

like leaves shed by the trees

I crave to be held by you

you are my Autumn my love

I am so cold many a times

being left alone by you

trying to consume some warmth by the fireplace

you have shown me the Winters my love

you greet me, complete me

you make me crazy with the way you treat me

I live with you, I die with you

you are the way my life takes me to

you truly are the seasons of my life

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To be Born Again

brighter than the fire

I burn today myself

glowing flames

spreading brightness around

demolishing my sins

that little demon in me

demon that reflects my dark side

it gets angry, it looses control

shows no affection, it doesn’t console

as I give in my soul to the burning flames

my soul is cleansed, becomes pure

I am introduced to my superior self

I become gentle, I follow kindness

I smile as I spread divinity around

there comes a stage in all our lives 

when we find ourselves filled with dark

must we embrace a little fire then

must we give in to burn our sins

to be born again

like a child inside

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for a Little Happiness

I chose silence over scream

gathered all pain in my heart

surprised I was to see its potential

how much more could it absorb

I was scared, yes I was

soon the day shall arrive

this heart of mine shall explode 

releasing uncountable tears

poor pretty heart

sure belongs to a brand rare and rich

consuming stabs of fate

is still working fine

still beating in hope

for a little happiness

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#pain #poetry #happiness

The Signal Man

the long dark tunnel

seemed ghostly, merciless

the ceiling inside, dripping water so cold

one could hear the squeaking bats

even from a distance

foul odour of the rodents

conspiring in the darkness

added shamelessly to the deadliness 

just the thought of going inside

could give one shivers

In the middle of that tunnel

with a small dim light

sat someone

waiting eagerly for trains to pass

his eyes never left the sight of the clock 

every minute of each hour to be noted

his notepad forever ready with a pen

filling in the time of each passing train

accepting the intrusion, giving a green light

he who sure wasn’t scared of the ghostly

right in the middle of the deadly dark tunnel

The Signal Man

at work

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At the same spot – Aimlessly

loaded with lush green leaves 

once, it stood with pride

its broadness offering cool shade

as the sun shone too bright

its many branches, holding pretty homes 

where birds would take their blissful naps

giving birth to their tiny ones

those leaves breathing in, the sun

birthing fresh air for many to survive

how meaningful was once its existence…

Today, its face a little too sad, rather shameful

now naked, robbed of its pretty leaves

its shade has gone, those nests are now dead

no birds sing music, sitting on its branches

just the sight of it, bringing shivers to my mind…

I am the culprit, I killed that tree

my greed has grown without a stop

my list of luxuries have destroyed its life

contaminated the earth, poisoned the soil

the noble tree, battled bravely to live

to keep giving, to save its pride

my filth in the end had won the war

&

the lifeless Tree, now standing

at the same spot Aimlessly

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oh Dreams & the other State of Us

ambiguous lives, lived by the living

in twin states of being awake or dreaming

overwhelming yet secretive

intrigues us souls to discover the relevance

the genuineness or the forgery

of both the worlds we spend our breaths in

are we real with these eyelids shut

or the color with our eyes open, is faithful

a mystery to remain so, never to be revealed

oh dreams and the other state of us

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