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Rachana Jan 2018
You bring out these rules
to make me look like a fool,
And to these rules you make amendments.
Insisting me to follow these commandments,
And I can do nothing but concur.
Let me free!
Rachana Dec 2017
I ran to the lift and clicked the 13th floor,
The highest floor the lift can ever take me to.
I looked at the sunrise and realized the things I am thankful for;
But then my brain took control over my mind and things got worse.
I climbed up the railing and stood on it facing the east.
A little left and I would fall from the terrace and be dead.
A little right and I would fall back to the terrace floor and break my head.
A little right and a little right and I would stay balanced.
I kept balancing myself until the brain stopped controlling me
I decided to go back home quietly and not narrate the incident that had happened.
Rachana Dec 2017
Floating around in the void experiencing zero-gravity,
Hoping  that I would fall into a huge dark cavity!
Never coming back to see my fellow beings,
And be in space all day long sight-seeing.
But I do want to prove the Flat-Earthers wrong,
And come back to Earth and get recognition like Armstrong!
Rachana Dec 2017
Shame comes with fame,
And she realized that she had tarnished her own name,
She gave herself another chance to carry on;
Again and once again,
But it was all in vain.
She tried to make everyday seem better,
And laugh along with all her friends who were bitter.
She knows that self harm is a waste of time,
And isn’t willing to repeat that futile crime.
She probably discerned the fact that hell is more peaceful than earth,
And planned of making a trip to hell hoping it would be worth.
It might be awful to see your daughter dead!
But sir, you haven’t noticed the tears she shed.
Also please don’t check her browsing history!
Let the reason behind her sudden death be a mystery.
This poem is written in third person as I didn't want to burst into tears at  the park while writing this poem.
Rachana Dec 2017
Don’t get blinded by my cheerful facade!
For I am an altruistic soul,
Walking around spreading love and happiness.
But some call me a: stingy little ******,
For I am not willing to share my sorrow and times of torment with anyone.
Why aren’t people seeing the bright side of my selfish attitude?
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