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Shreya Das Aug 2020
I just needed company now
I just needed someone around
I don’t care what song that we played
or a mess that we made

Just company now.
someone around?
Shreya Das Aug 2020
You told me those who believe in love,
are the ones with the weakest heart
So did I really not expect it,
when you tore my heart apart?
false promises
Shreya Das Aug 2020
You well up my eyes,
then you stream down my face
so this is why I need time;
this is why I need space.
There's no relief. Why do I still see you in my dreams?
Shreya Das Aug 2020
Headstone
the name,
the date,
and the man's fate.


Whatever unknown, all is certain;
that death shall pull the curtain.
Shreya Das Jul 2020
I feel my heart sink further down
I feel my tears, I'm going to drown
Why is everything so hard today?
Why can't I express what I want to say?

Feeling myself trapped inside,
I know to my heart I've lied.
Can't shake this feeling of sadness
Feeling that my soul is in madness.
How can I get out of here?
Please help me, can somebody hear
Why?
Shreya Das Jul 2020
“She’s so beautiful!”
That’s what they said
But did they know the truth,
of that miserable broot
That of the hidden me,
that of her artificial beauty.

  “She’s so sweet!”
   That’s what they said
   But they even hear,
   her heart’s sorrow and fear
   That of her hidden heart,
   that of her gifted art.

“She’s so great!”
That what they said
But did they know her greatness,
of that creature full of loneliness
That of the hidden trust,
that of her heart full of mistrust.
I stood there looking at her artificial beauty, while she gave me the same old fake smile.
Shreya Das Jul 2020
She loves to sing when no one can hear,
She fades away darkness and fear.
She sings ‘Hello?’ to the sunshine,
She lights up the stars of the night sky.

   She sings when the flowers bloom,
   She sings when the sorrow loom.
   She sings the winter away,
   She sings to the spring everyday.

She sings when the lady smiles,
She sings when the little birds fly.
She sings her pain today,
She sings her love everyday.
She used to keep her melancholy aside and used to sing to me, as we plucked wild roses from the bushes everyday.

— The End —