tell me how beautiful is the stars
and how the moon shines so bright
explore every inch of wonders,
embrace the night sky

whisper your wishes
turn off the lights
tell me how your mind
floats in the darkness
when slowly,
you are suffering inside.

When things go wrong…

We cast blame,
We heap accusations,
We shovel suspicion,
We hurl abuse,
We point fingers,
We spit doubt.

Oh God, why war?
Oh God, why ******?
Oh God, why famine?
Oh God, why sickness?
Oh God, why poverty?
Oh God, why injustice?

When things work out…

We award ourselves,
We praise ourselves,
We celebrate ourselves,
We toast ourselves,
We pat ourselves,
We acknowledge ourselves.

I did it,
I did it all,
I did this,
I did that,
I did,
I did.

Did you, really?

I found comfort in your presense
I found purpose in your eyes
I found a place to rest my head
until the sun would rise
I found a place I could call home
I found a place I'd never known
I found a place I now could hold
I found a burst, a flare,  nothing no words to compare
I found my happiness in your expressions
your small quirks the left me breathless
I found you but at the wrong time

write a poem everyday
make it a daily habit
note whatever you've to say
the bitter or the sweet.

stare at the screen before you
or the page if it's so
there's always something new
awaiting your ink's flow.

some you've to dig not much
a few need delving deep
some may feel like feather touch
a few would make you weep.

sometimes the hand would just not move
at other would run like horse
sometimes the words would sing and groove
cry out like waves' roars.

while you write you may bleed
or kiss the blue like bird
jotting down is all you need
the inner voice that's heard.

She was in love
With old books.
She was in love with
The way they smelled
As she flipped the pages
And felt the air hit her face.
She was in love with
The rough texture
Of the paper worn over time.
She was in love with
The yellowed tint of the pages
And the crumple of water spots.
She was in love with
The broken and tattered
Binding that crinkled
When you touched it.
But most of all,
She was in love with
The stories that not only
The words written in them held
But the stories behind each
Coffee stain and torn corner.
The idea that this book
Had connected with
So many other people
Enchanted her,
And she wondered if
Maybe she wasn't as
Strange and odd
As people told her.
And she thought that just
Maybe she wasn't as
Alone as she felt.

I've been gone for so long
I can't remember who I was
before I turned to this

One day I will buy chocolate milk,
One day I will fly first class,
One day my shirts will be silk,
One day I’ll have a backstage pass.

I am accustomed to saying No
To things that would make me smile,
It’s not that I’m short on dough
But splurging just isn’t my style.

The waiter asks if I’d like a sundae,
Oh my, I couldn’t do that,
Perhaps I’ll have it one day
Because I don’t want to get fat.

This attitude long ago was learned
And strangely it has survived,
Trust me I’m deeply concerned
Why I am so often deprived.

I know I deserve the best,
And shouldn’t make life tougher,
I feel that I’m overly stressed,
And I don’t deserve to suffer.

Starting today I shall vow
To indulge my deepest desires,
To spoil myself I’ll learn how
Before my dull life expires.