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Aruna Feb 2014
The clock ticks closer to the twelve
And as the seconds count down you know,
This is it.
As the second hand touches the twelve there is a silence.
The silence you find at a funeral
And it is like a funeral, isn't it?
Mourning when you were surrounded by friends, not even hours ago
You know it'll never be the same, but you don't' want to know
How your life has changed, turned inside out.
The exam is now over, you've missed what was said
You feel numb and feel weak
But your heart feels like lead
The scrape of chairs across the gym floor
And it hits you, this isn't your school any more.
Aruna Feb 2014
As you grow older your life starts to change
Nap time becomes exam time
and I find it strange
How one day your have not a care in the world
But the next you are panicking because of all you've been told
The stresses of life can't be handled by few
So when they are struggling to learn something new.
Remember your life in a small nursery, the chaos it used to  hold
When you can't sleep, turn a light on
You’re never too old to draw with crayons.
Prompt: Write a poem including the line, “You’re never too old to draw with crayons.”
Aruna Feb 2014
Everything will get better with time,
In a year or a decade some fate will decide
What's good in your life and how you will struggle
The people, the places, the tears that form puddles.
Even though right now, we may struggle to breathe
To devour oxygen like animals, to know what we need
The confusion, the worry, of what we should do next
Of how to proceed with our next gentle steps
Our minds are not clear, but that may soon change
When the fates decide, on what's next in our game.
Aruna Feb 2014
The comfort and warmth,
From the brown bark of trees.
An arrangement of letters, books are my disease.
To read and to read until my eyes are weighed down
With stories and poems these words bring around
To read is an adventure, another life beside yours
Another world you can enter, somewhere safe from the storm
That bashes and booms outside of you door.
When it ends, for those final few pages
You mourn.
As another day starts you choose something to read.
An adventure, a terror, a knight in good stead
To whisk you away to a place not your own
In a readers life, you don't have just one home.
Aruna Feb 2014
Heavy anchor,
Weighing me down.
The pounding in my ear
Slowly surrounds me in darkness
A darkness that drowns me.
Aruna Feb 2014
Every step, of the way
I'm meant to grow with every day.
Baby steps and bounding leaps
My troubles try to grip my feet
Slowing down, my bounds grow short
Black ink is spreading through my heart
Poison apples I've had a few
My steps have stopped what do I do?
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