I miss home now,
I always try to bring a part of it,
In the bedsheets that smell like home,
In the fragrance of clothes by detergent in home.
And the home made food by mother.
Fruits packed by father,
And the snacks by brother,
But it all fades away in days.
I search for ways to find home in me,
And I again travel to bring a part of it,
The next time I go home.
And it keeps to go on.

It's dark outside,
It's like the silence has died.
I can hear the lightest whisper,
And the flicker of insect's wings.
I hear things so loud,
That I can't hear you.
Have you been saying something?
I don't hear you,
And your unsolicited advice.
But anyways,
Thank you!

I watched the movie,
The perks of being a wallflower.
It was beautiful, you see,
forty three minutes + an hour.
Charlie, He was a wallflower,
Little did he know he hid his power.
Until he found his friends,
The best of all, anxiety it ends.
You thought but it didn't.
It ate him, every inch of his skin,
Devoured him like a devil.
He kept his sufferings mute.
Why would he do that?
Coward you might ask.
He is Charlie, one of us,
How might we speak up,
When the world doesn't hear.
You might think the same.
But seldom would you speak.
I liked it the movie.