The end of finals week inspired me to do this lol

Leaves in autumn
Falling beautifully,
Hitting the ground,
Oh, so, gently.
And the tree losing it all
To gear up for a fresh start.
Are there any regrets from either part?
Not at all.

Waves on a beach,
Taking in sand, so slowly,
And lightly carving patterns
On it’s surface at the edges.
Serenity, is it?

Clear skies, and doves flying,
Whistling noises with the wind
Is this what peace feels like?


A/N: My final project for the academic year is done, and this is what freedom feels like! :’)

Trip Down Memory Lane.

Old poems of mine remind me how much I have changed, not just the writing style, but the content et cetera.

Everytime, on the radio, that song plays
To those beats my hips sway,
But this time, no arms around my waist,
All alone, I still remember those days..

Those photos of us, still living in the love,
Wish things went back to the perfection it was..

This is what happens when,
I take a trip down memory lane,

Songs on shuffle, photos in the frame,
Remind me of you all along,
Remind me you are a lost cause
And remind me why I don’t like
Trips down memory lane.

Places where we used to hang out,
And all the kisses we shared,
All of those memories remind me,
There was a time you cared..

The teddy you bought me still hugs me,
Reminds me that you once loved me,

This is what happens when,
I take a trip down memory lane,

Those pillow fights and red rose bouquets,
Remind me of my best mistake,
Remind me we were insane
Remind me why I don’t like,
Trips down memory lane..

It ended too soon, but no regrets
Felt like a dream, it had to end..
But over it I won’t fret,
Loved you like it was the end

These Memories in my heart are fixed,
Feelings right now, totally mixed
Sorting all this may take me a while,
And who knows I may see you some time

This is what happens when,
I take a trip down memory lane
Those sweet messages and long calls,
Remind me that now you’re gone,
Remind me I’m all alone,
Remind me why I don’t like
A trip down memory lane

This is what happens when,
I take a trip down memory lane,
Everything out there, seems to remind me of him,
But I got no regrets, knew it had to end,
Remind me everything is okay,
But I still don’t like
A trip down memory lane..

A/N: An old one, and I know I’m running a day late, but plis spare me, there’s too much work at hand, given that it’s finals week, and my final submission is tomorrow. Plus I’ve been sick for the past 5 days now ugh. I’ll hopefully get back on track tomorrow with 2 poems in here.


Old one again πŸ™‚

They say Home is a place, a warm comfy abode,
But I’d rather say it is not a place at all..

For me Home isn’t a place but a feeling,
Home is the first person thought of when you feel scared
Home is running into your loved one, with your heart scarred.
Home is feeling at peace with two arms wrapped around you,
Home is the ticking of time when whatever is pleasing you do

Home is spilling drunken truths to someone special,
Home is seeing someone cry for they feel your pain.
Home is the scars on your wrist replaced by someone’s grip
Home is midnight kisses and waking up to breakfast and surprises.

Home is the group hug of friends after a long while,
Home is the sneaking out of house at midnight with friends
Home is those bucket lists with them,
Home is those candid pictures, texts and feelings.

Home is spending time on what you love,
Home is living life the best you can.
Home is forgetting all else for your passion
Home is love, happiness and satisfaction.

They say Home is a place, a warm comfy abode,
But I’d rather say it is not a place at all..
It’s a feeling after all.
A feeling after all.


So bring on the rebels, the ripples from the pebbles, the painters, and poets and plays πŸ™‚

They dance to the rhythm,
Composed by a musician.
His beats and melodies,
Grooving to symphonies.
And then shamelessly go ahead
Bashing a learner, a newbie,
Putting it in his head,
That he’ll never be a
Beethoven or a Mozart.
But maybe all he needs,
Is to be himself. He is art.

Admiring paintings in exhibitions,
But making sure their kids face
The same pressure and competition
Art is not a way to sustain living,
They say.
They’re right.
Art isn’t a way to sustain living.
Art is a way of living.

The writers up at 3 A.M,
Battling their inner selves.
And then having to go through the pain
Of facing people, whose words are vain.
Because they buy all these bestsellers,
And then become these preachers,
Talking about their love for books,
And conveniently disrespecting
The one who wants to add one too.

And anyone with a camera,
Can make a movie, they claim.
A bit of a failure,
And everyone is ready to blame.
Hiding behind their popcorn,
They laugh and giggle and smile.
And absolutely forget to acknowledge
The efforts of the maker, all this while.


A/N: Love how, when you take a different career path, or take any choice which is not generic by societal standards, everyone is all set to offer free advice, and even try to convince you to change. Sometimes, when they don’t know what you’re talking about, they’ll ask you about it, and then use that limited information to convince you how unappealing whatever you’re into, is. There is struggle in any field, so why is it hard to accept that there is the same even in all these artsy fields? Moreover, why do we want to make choices with no struggle whatsoever? Why do we need to be handed everything in a platter?


Here’s to those who keep giving their all, for some who don’t even care πŸ™‚

The red roses you hold,
Oh so pretty,
But I think you’re bold,
To keep on going,
That the stalk of the rose,
The thorns it grows
Pricking right into your skin,
And hurting you, pretty thing.

And just like the rose,
You keep holding on,
To those who keep you on your toes.
Always on the edge, never sure.
And you keep hurting,
To keep them happy
A candle burning,
To keep them warm and cozy.


A/N: Do you just mentally detach yourself from some people sometimes, because you’re tired of the amount of times they’ve let you down? :/


Let’s be proud as writers, and readers.

Pen, paper and ink,
No time to blink,
Creating worlds full of colour,
With mere black and white words.

A detective all stressed,
This case was all messed.
Who stole the jewels?
And who is the murderer?
The reader would be a wonderer.

And a true story, so appealing,
Of a prisoner, a soldier, a king.
Non-fiction catching everyone off guard,
Sometimes leaving some scarred.

Fantasy to enthrall everyone,
Monsters, wizards, it’s all fun.
The different spells and languages,
Spread across so many pages.

How can we forget poetry?
The essence and the symphony.
Sometimes in rhythm, sometimes not,
Short or long, it means a lot.

Caught between the pages,
Are these different worlds,
It’s all up to you,
Where you choose to go.

Taking you away from reality,
All the lines and dialogues, so witty
Engrossed into these books,
Can’t get off the hook.


A/N: I had written this back in time. Wanted to write something new, but I have absolutely nothing in me alive right now to pen down. Maybe in a day or two, I could write about the nothingness I feel at this moment. Maybe I’ll survive πŸ™‚


‘Bout last night

In a bunch of people,
I look for a way out
My stress seems tripled
And I can do without.

At peace when alone,
And lonely around many,
Away I need to be gone
Or my thoughts become rainy.

How do I explain,
The chain of my thoughts,
It’s all inside my brain,
My ideas and thoughts, they haunt.

And before I know it,
I am in another zone,
It’s all negative, a dark pit
I don’t know if I need someone
Or I need to be alone.

So I distance myself, from those
Who might care and try helping.
I water my own thoughts and let it all grow.
I realize, sometimes, you’re fine with drowning.


A/N: So, last night I surpassed my normal mode and entered zombie mode where I was all negative, and it made me recall a time when things weren’t going well for me, and now, in that zone, I was sinking again. I hated it, and I tried putting it down, although I think I failed at it.. :/

Things Left Unsaid.

Back on track.

In my alone time,
These thoughts I gather,
About the ‘should haves’ and the ‘could haves’
But instead I said all goodbyes,
And didn’t realize it, until it was late,
Was it just me, or was it fate?

“Say it, Say it”,
My conscience screamed.
Couldn’t gather courage, I wasn’t brave,
Their departure crushed me like a wave.
“Next time, I’ll tell them”, I tell myself.
These are the lies upon which I dwell.

Make each moment count.

I forgot to upload yday hehehe.

When it’s too dark for you,
And no hope can be seen,
Tears trickle down your cheeks,
Vision too blurred to see.
There is light coming soon after,
The dark will be gone.
There are times, you feel alone.
There are times, when there is no home.
But make each moment count,
You’ll see the small joys of life,
One tiny second, grief isn’t around
And you suddenly see,
The hope in the light.
Sometimes you feel you’re drowning,
And it seems like it is the end,
But to those voices, don’t you bend,
All these broken pieces, you can mend.
You wonder how long the misery lasts,
Why, oh why, did you end up this way?
They say you’ll see the light, the rays,
But it seems, you’re now the prey.
Make each moment count,
Don’t let your efforts go in vain,
One tiny second, grief isn’t around,
Sunshine will come after the rain.
One day you’ll stand strong and mighty,
And realize you got through it all,
Overcame your fears, faults and flaws.
And finally broke down that barrier wall.
You stand tall and mighty,
It’s where you belong.
To get there, it took you long,
But now you knew,
You could do it all along.
A/N: Again an old one, but this is one of my favorites. Plus, I think everyone should read it so yeah πŸ™‚



Tick tock, tick tock,
When do you stop?
Days pass, weeks fly,
You stand quiet under a melancholy sky.
You, a candle, that keeps on burning,
to keep others warm, you keep on hurting.
And whatever is in your power, you do everything,
Just to realize, that you mean absolutely nothing
To the one person you want
The one person you can’t
Have in any possible way
So your goodbyes you say.
Or at least you try,
Hold your tears, don’t you cry.
Realization takes it’s own sweet time,
To give your all to someone, isn’t a crime.
But sometimes it’s time to hit the break,
No matter how much it aches.
Stop putting your all for this person,
For whom you are a no one.
Instead walk away from the pain,
Your effort won’t be in vain,
As you find a freedom of a kind,
A liberty and change of mind.
Free yourself from these chains and bounds,
Give yourself the love, rise above the grounds.

A/N: Hmm, I feel like I’m writing to my own self.