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It is every young boys Christmas wish
to have a train beneath the tree
It is every young boys Christmas wish
But it is not a wish of me
To wake up near the fire
To feel the heat there by your side
It's not a Christmas wish of mine
It's not a wish that I've inside
I have a tree I decorate
It's a small one, but it's there
It's a bit beat up and tattered
It's been moved around it's share
I don't have a christmas stocking
You see, it just would not hold what I need
For my gift this Christmas season
Is to rid the world of greed
I'm one of the unfortunate
I have no place to go
But, I still like it at Christmas
When we get a little snow
I sleep inside at the mission
When the weather is real brisk
But, most times I do alright
Though at times, it is a risk
I used to have the visions
Of the Christmases that passed
But, with what I drink to keep me warm
The visions seldom last
I remember one good Christmas
We had turkey, and good wine
I'm not sure what year exactly
I think it was in '89
I used to have the wish list
Of every single boy
I wanted things at Christmas
I wanted every single toy
But at Christmas, every young boy
Wants that train, he wishes hard
But, I see a train around me
You see, I live in the train yard
The wish of every young boy
I see it 'round my tree
It's a real one that surrounds us
And I see it around me
I'm homeless and love Christmas
No matter what you think
I wish you Merry Christmas
Can you help me with a drink?
A fire, yes I've got one
The train, I've got a real one too
I just can't remember as many Christmas'
As I know I used to do
I miss
I miss the nights when things were different
I miss the nights when I asked what pokémon you caught
not what STD you got
I miss the fridays when we asked what you were doing
not, who you were *******
The nights when it was about us
and not them
the nights when we smiled
not cried
Why is it
why is it we want to grow up
instead of living
because before we know it
there wont be any time left to live
and we’ll be wishing to have it back
missing the nights when things we different
the nights when I didn’t have to worry about
losing you
the nights when you remember
what happened
the nights when
you didn’t have to ask others
what happened
when will it end
the nights when
you don’t come home
you don’t call for a ride
and you don’t come back.
because one day
people will be saying
boy I knew her when
when things were different
the nights when partying
meant cake and weird hats
not drugs and bad tat’s
all I’m trying to say is not
how to live your life
but to live your life
people say you only live once
thats true
but
you only die once
don’t make that once
because you were young
and stupid
remember
remember the days when
you could walk yourself to the car
the nights when drinking
meant juice
and higher
meant on a swing
and the only thing getting baked
were cookies.
Now
the twisted meanings
are your life
were your life
when the nights
were different.
Is this you in the wedding
Photograph? Yes. St Mark’s church.
1951. Late June.
Your hair looks nice, and the dress

Looks fine. Not mine. It was the
One my mother wore and her
Mother before her. A white
Handed down family gift

For marriages that end in
Doom. Your husband looks dapper
Hanging onto your arm like
Grim death. Don’t waste you breath on

Him he’s gone now. Was he no
Good? He thought he was the dog’s
Dinner but he was the pig’s
Backside and no mistake. Gone

You say? Dead? Long since and no
Regrets. Why keep the photo
If it was bad? To remind
Me of that fateful day and

His thin sickly smile. Why so?
Why keep it thus? To remind
Me of his premature death,
The grimfaced miserable cuss.

(Poem composed in 2008.)
I killed some baby
Birds
In 1974, eleven, ten years after I was
One and Innocent and my chubby
Fingers probably looked like fat
Sausages to the birds
Tormenting me

Mama bird, frantic, chirping and
Flying in my blonde hair-space
Something worm-like crawled into my
Existence Heart Soul Stomach Nothing
Better than a poke in the eye
Unless you’ve wings that haven’t
Been fully tested
Chirp squawk squawk Chirp
Some kids too far away,
Yelling Hey what the heck’re you doing
You shut up and mind your own
Bees had no wax that day for me

Stick in the safe confines of the picnic
Non-shelter gutter enclosure straw nest
Aborting a beautiful winged thing months
Weeks

Frail little ungraceful bodies
Fell from a height unseen
Landing in ****** puddles
Mom-bird aiming her beak at my own
Eyes swollen and wet, seeing the
Damage I’d manage to inflict
With absolutely no reason as to
Why? On that horrible-

Day and confused, Why?
WHY Did I DO that?
Oh God I’m so sorry
I killed something only Your
Hands could have Present-ed
To our world
Behind me, birdsongs flew, invisible
Wings echoing
Down endless dark corridors
Of my mind

I ran the gait of cowards,
Crying, awkward, stumbling, falling,
Skinning the guilty knees of the man
Inside my conscious who’d taken
Temporary refuge in his wanderings
I cut between yards I promised I’d never cut
Again

Son what’s wrong why’re you crying
I sobbed the evil man out of me, his
Residue falling in salty tears
I did a bad thing, Mom
Tell me what happened. Get it out of you.
Some birds, baby birds, were chirping
Yes. Go on.
I took a stick.
I feel my Mom flinch as if struck with a
Sharp pointed wooden object
Oh no…
And I killed their song.
And their ability to fly.
Oh, my son…
And Mom simply held me, drawing out
The rest of the wild
Spontaneous impulses
That possessed me on that awful
Day I killed the baby birds
 Nov 2012 Sunshine Girl
Jowlough
And I'm just ready
to sail any oceans
and plunge
into this stage,
to hold your hand
with an open heart and mind,
to free our spirits
from this cage;
And I'm just ready.
to take one step forward,
to take the lead,
and be free,
and I'm just ready;
My sweet, Dearest,
will you sail with me?
 Nov 2012 Sunshine Girl
Sophia
Oh you.
Sitting in the front of the classroom.
Perfection.
Perfection.
Perfection.
School royalty.
I want you.
And there you were,
smiling back at me,
talking to me,
making me think i had a chance.
I know you don't know me well.
I know I want to know you better.
Perfection.
Perfection.
Perfection.
I let my heart fall for you.
But you like her.
And she likes you.
And I know that I would never have a chance with you.
I never did.
I felt as though I'd found you.
But you played with my heart.
without a care in the world.
Absentmindedly.
Unknowing.
Uncaring.
I hate you.
I love you.
Spare me the heartbreak and just tell me so.
Even though I already know.
Perfection.
Perfection.
Perfection.
 Nov 2012 Sunshine Girl
Àŧùl
As I Wrote My First Examination's Answers,
My Hands Shook From The Sudden Drop In Temperature.
I Wondered Wearing Daredevil Half Sleeves,
My Stunts Took Too Much From My Performance.

As I Wrote My Answers To All The Questions,
My Mind Was Then Persuaded Away From The Cold.
I Wondered Whether It Was Some Other Deeds,
My Brain Had Been Fooled By Exam Conscience.

As I Wrote The Second-Last Of My Answers,
It Was Time-Over For The Exam & All Others Started Filing Out.
I Wondered Gazing Down At My Wrist Watch's Hands,
Whether They Would Give Me Some Extra Time By Medical Case.

As I Looked Up And Sought Few Extra Minutes,
The Kind Invigilator - My H.O.D. Said It Was Fine & Agreed.
Then She Told Me To Follow Her A Few Rooms,
Into The Dimmer Exam Control Room I Followed Her All The Way.

I Was Immediately Asked By The H.O.D. to take any seat,
I Looked Around To Notice A Chair Less ***** & Decided To Be Seated.
Then I wrote and I Just Wrote Till My Answer Was Over.
And Ultimately Came Out Of The Mechanical Block Smiling Triumphantly.
This is the poem I wrote thinking about 'exams' as that day on the 26th of November I'm appearing two exams. Concepts of Bioinformatics exam was done well and similarly the Concepts of Biofuels & Bioenergy exam was done good too.

Not saying more, you should read the poem above itself than reading the explanation of what it is about.

My HP Poem #13
© Atul Kaushal
My family is a bunch of animals.
My mother is a lioness,
strong, brave, and full of pride,
with claws sharp as knives,
for anyone that harms her cub she will strike.
my father is a hyena,
foolish, never serious, and a lazy scavenger,
that doesn't do anything but eat the crap that he creates.
My grand parents are elephants,
big and strong during the day,
blind and helpless during the night.
My aunts and uncles are the herd of gazelles,
they graze when they can,
but when the lioness comes they silence and run away with fear.
My dogs are the shade that comforts me from the burning sun of life.
The day has come when the lioness shall not roam the tall grasses of the Serengeti.
Without the lioness the gazelles are persistently grazing,
depleting the grass,
grazing and depleting until there was no grass left for me to hide in,
they rammed and bucked at me like I had no right to grieve.
I was a helpless cub on that day and I still am,
wondering when the lioness will show up to be my heroine again.
But as the gazelles buck and ram,
a kangaroo and a zebra rush in,
embrace me,
and take me in,
I now have a second family with:
a savage tiger,
Italian chipmunks,
boxing kangaroos,
kick-*** monkeys,
elderly turtles,
burly bears,
religious zebras,
and untimely rabbits.
My second family is diverse,
but they never do the worst just as my first.
This is a story that I usually don't tell,
but this my past life so I must tell, tell, tell...
This is what God raised me to be,
This for me and only me.
One day the light will show for me,
and me and the lioness will forever again be free,
to roam the plains in the skies above,
just like a dove.
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