She was told as a kid,
To be fair is beautiful,
So she looked down her skin,
When she sighted a mirror,
And they pointed at others,
Saying- that girl is pretty.
And she withered inside for,
She didn’t look like those “pretties”.
8 year old and she’s taught,
To be dark is a sin,
For no man would approach,
A pigmented melanin,
And she’ll grow old and wilt,
In her lone parents home,
Well except, well except,
She did something about it.
And she did, yes she did,
More than something about it,
Now her skin is much lighter,
But she didn’t stop at her skin,
And her nose is a bit Pointer,
And her lips are much fuller,
And they point- see this fake thing,
Forgetting that they made her,
By the words they had implanted,
As a kid of eight years old.
What is life but a series of curveballs,
Of deaths which come unannounced,
Of heartaches and tear stained pillows,
Of forevers which end in the now.
Of betrayal by those whom you’d offer,
Your head on the pedestal for;
Of regrets and could haves, all the chances
For which a second, might not arrive.
She believed she had mastered life’s pattern,
All the crannies and nooks on its vast…
But the life that she knew was one sided,
Woven up and knitted out in pain…
She had seen loss one after another,
There was only so much she could take,
‘Fore the unbroken diamond she once was,
Lost its shine, by walling up pain.
If you see her she still is unbroken,
But her shine is never the same.
Side note: There has been a death in the family as a few of my blogging friends know. And that’s the reason for my absence from the blogging world for this month of may. Will get back to your comments and posts as soon as things settle down.
Would I- be amongst those,
Whose fingers would speak,
Of the goodness erupting,
From their finger tips;
On the day when the mountains,
All become flattened,
When man stands- sole,
And account for his deed.
Would I- be amongst, the few
Chosen ones, whose faces
Aglow, from the
Worship of their Lord.
At the first string of light,
They defeat the alarm,
And the grounds would bear witness,
They glorified their Lord.
Would I be amongst those,
The shaded ones,
Who bore with fortitude,
The trials of this world.
For indeed, on that day,
They’re the successful ones.
Those who walked the earth as strangers,
Knowing IT, they will become.
For the first writer’s quote of February, I chose an author whose poems I only recently became familiar with recently- Ella wheeler Wilcox. There, I gave out the author’s name already so no worries. There is no quiz this week. The title of the poem is Solitude.
Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone;
For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own.
Sing, and the hills will answer;
Sigh, it is lost on the air;
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care.
Rejoice, and men will seek you;
Grieve, and they turn and go;
They want full measure of all your pleasure,
But they do not need your woe.
Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad, and you lose them all,—
There are none to decline your nectared wine,
But alone you must drink life’s gall.
Feast, and your halls are crowded;
Fast, and the world goes by.
Succeed and give, and it helps you live,
But no man can help you die.
There is room in the halls of pleasure
For a large and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on
Through the narrow aisles of pain.
The verses of the poem were culled from Poetry foundation and the above image quote is courtesy of Quotesfancy.com
watching the sky beyond me,
fade to a brilliant violet hue.
Fade to a golden crimson colour,
In solitary fineness, I stood.
I bet were wondering why,
I could tell from their hovering stance
Above, their noise but a minuscule
Compared to the view- I stood.
Early morn possesses,
At the start of summer every year,
Makes Autumn memory disappear,
Oh Lord, what blessing.
Shall come and blanket,
The birds shall part for their nest,
Summer will eventually disappear,
So I stand… In the present.
The credit for the beautiful sunrise image above is courtesy of this blog these days of mine.com
I would tell you loss gets easy,
But I’m sure you’ve felt that pain,
An aching dull sensation,
In the middle of your chest;
Hands tremble uncontrollably,
With the phone gripped to your ear;
Sorry we couldn’t save her,
Is the last statement you hear.
The world spins all around you,
But the truth stares in your face;
A soul you loved, a part of you,
Gone from this universe;
To tell you loss gets easy then,
Wouldn’t take away your pain;
So weep my love- unburden
Grieve if it keeps you sane.
The above Image is courtesy of Brokengypsy.tumblr.com
I once met a girl on a journey,
She told me she was tired.
This world had broken her will to live,
Long sleep- was what she desired.
12 year old, me could not understand,
Why sleep with so much to wake for?
The stars in itself kept me up at night,
In awe of their beauty and creation.
I was a kid, and she was a kid,
Two beings with different experience,
She wanted to sleep,
My own days were too short-
Our route had no intersection.
I once met a girl on a journey,
And she told me she was tired,
Now I wonder if maybe I’d shown her my life,
Her skies might be a bit clearer.
Years have gone by, since my encounter
And I hope her grey clouds have departed;
There’s a twinge in my heart,
When I think of the past,
And there was little I did to help her.
The beautiful image above is courtesy of This Site
For her luxury is the sight,
Of a cloudless sky;
Golden rays streaming,
Unfiltered, through cracks.
It’s the crowing of hens,
At the first string of light,
And the tune- of mocking birds,
Singing their hearts.
It’s the softness of wool,
On the skin of her Lambs;
Radiating, “we’re here for you”,
Entwined in her arms.
Luxury is her knees,
In friction with the ground;
With her forehead in prostrate,
As she speaks- to her Lord.
Luxury is the wind,
Sweeping across her face;
With her feet in the grass,
In nature’s sweet embrace.
The above iMage is courtesy of Own Skin.com
You can start this very moment,
To make this life your own,
Erase the dusted part of you,
So you can create your home
There’d be cobwebs,
There’d be to roaches,
There’d be traps to hold you back,
In the form of,
Screaming- this, here, is your life.
This can’t be your life,
A life that’s riddled in despair,
Where sadness has no comfort,
And love has turned wingless,
So sweep off all those places,
Where the past keeps hiding in,
Then use those wings,
You know you have,
And soar out and be free.
For there’s more to life,
You will find-
Once you dare to take the risk.
The above image is courtesy of Pinterest/Hexdragon.com
If there’s one thing I must say
Before I leave this earth, it’s this-
That the universe is large enough,
For all that you can be;
And never let a shadow cast,
It’s darkness on your dream;
Or the one who’s lived more decades,
Determine who you must be .
For my darling, life’s your ocean,
So sail it how you see fit;
They may say the tides too high,
But you’re the sailor of your ship.
The above image is courtesy of Pinterest- Dream Big