In the world of joy,
with the fantasy of voyage..
i'm the boy,
who is not in alloy,
that's why my heart cry...!
I live; but die
I do but all deny
I'm the exception!
which always makes me cry!
that's why, my heart cry...
I fail & fall which is so tall,
long'n'long not a ray of call......
than thy know, thy the unique one,
and the wonderful world is that cruel one!!
I the boy loves it(world) as a toy
than someone from heart cry,
You cry! You cry! You cry!
Have you ever felt tired?
If not others,
Of how you've changed,
If not this world,
And you can't quite put your finger on it,
But the only feeling is restlessness,
Weary of everything;
Have you ever felt lost?
Not because you're unfamiliar,
Or the place unknown,
Or the faces seem to be devoid of humanity,
For everyone struggles differently,
And you wear a mask to blend in,
So that you don't stand out,
In the crowd of lonely hearts,
Especially when you're all alone;
Have you ever felt broken?
Like these bones crack and break,
Under the weight of your own hurt,
When you keep on blaming yourself,
For even the smallest of flaws,
When you keep on picking at the scars,
Of all the past mistakes and faults,
As though you can't help it,
But to wrong yourself;
Have you ever felt love?
The kind that heals,
Not with a touch but a kiss of promise,
As he held you close and tender,
Telling you how worthy,
How beautiful you are really,
And you fear the reflection in the mirror,
Only to have him trace your well-intended heart,
That your pulse quickens,
With the urgency to be revived again,
As a new person,
Someone you once knew;
I have felt all of the above,
But most of all I've felt his love,
And I have been racking my brain,
Trying to understand,
What I could've possibly done,
To deserve it all,
Especially he who is so kind.
it takes time to sort through
sometimes you may get lost
it might be mind boggling
but keep trying don't give up
I'm starting over fresh
putting the past behind
and moving forward with
every Tic and every Toc
with every minute passing
upon the great clock
I lose a little Yet
I gain alot...
Please stop to trying
cause I’m still collecting pieces
from the time i walked home crying.
Stop showing me that frown
for I’m still coughing water
since the last time you let me drown.
Stop to ignore it
for I’m still healing wounds
from the time you took my heart and tore it.
The tears stream down her face.
She wipes them away.
Applies her make-up anyways.
She keeps praying for a saving grace.
Trying to be her own best friend every day.
Tired of the struggle and the pain.
She still puts on her high heels and slow dances in the rain.
She looks up to the sky.
With the tears falling once again, she realizes its herself she needs to find.
"You wasting time being productive again"
(That wasn't a question)
Of course I am
"No, I am not"
(That was a joke)
I'm much more sofisticated
You spelled sophisticated wrong in you head I'm sure
"have a good day at work"
"Have a good day not being non-productively busy"
I am a hoarder
You may not see it at first sight.
My clothes, pressed and wrinkle-free
My shoes, freshly polished
Not a single hair misplaced
but I am a hoarder
My room, though, is spotless
Not a book out of place
Every little thing in its own little case
but I am a hoarder
No, I do not collect used up shoes and stack them in a pile
nor do I have a hard time throwing out broken down appliances
I am a special kind of hoarder
The lack of mess you see on the outside world has been compensated by the mess I sleep in every night
I collect dust-filled memories and broken down dreams
some, too broken to be recognised
I stack expectation upon shattered expectation in a pile too high for me to move without it falling
I have tried countless of times to move out the pieces of what used to be plans and pictures of the future of us
The storybook fairytale love stories have lost its luster,
now they sit next too overused ideas I still try to play once in a while, but it seems to get stuck on repeat all the time
and I try to explain that hoarding isn't just on the outside, but something worse when it's within
The inability to let go of the past, so I keep them hidden
and no one would notice, not for one bit what I am
I am a hoarder
of the worst kind
I do not hoard things,
but something far much more unkind
Pages upon pages of sleepless nights
trying to make my burnt up mind and second-hand run down heart work again
Cause I know I've tossed too many out on the bed
to even try to count how many they currently are
I am a hoarder
a compulsive, emotional, tormented
trying to figure out where to start
"What is that you wanted to tell me?"
Everything that she mused to utter,
Appeared to dwindle away
Failing to convey, trying to cover it she emitted a mutter
"Oh! Why can't I convey it?"
The room echoed by her repeated query
While she stared at her tired reflection
Only the seized silver image can hearken her clearly
In fright of loosing someone;
The people who are her life's vital part
Failing to convey her love to them;
To the people who are the beat of her heart
But now, plucking some grit;
She desired to convey it all
"Uh...I uh... It was th...that" she stuttered
"Nothing much, how are you?" she finally call.
© by Ruman Hafsa