It must be a strong force unseen
That drives a heart to someone's poetry,

For it's not easy to spare the time,
Out of the chaotic humdrum of one's life,

To push the clutter and monotone aside
And welcome alien ideas into one's mind,

Ideas not shaped into melodious tunes,
Ideas not shaded with colours and hues,

Ideas not in a photographic frame enclosed,
Ideas not structured into the flow of prose,

Free-gushing, mischievous, some rhyming some not!
Poetic ideas are a difficult lot,

Which is why I wonder, astonished, each time
Someone sits down to explore a creation of mine,

What power was greater than all worldly realities,
That led them to my humble poetry?

Was it a soul parched of light?
Was it a heart in the throes of an endless night?

Was it the thrill of love, was it the urgency of desire?
Was it pure craving for emotion, the warmth of fire?

No greater an honour could there be,
Than having someone step into your dream,

Allowing themselves to take the expedition,
Into the unknown depths of your composition,

And have your poem satiate their being,
Just as its birth had healed your own entity.

Vermilion spread across
her forehead, like clouds
over the dusky sky,
Love perspired,
and frantically rained,
Her Earth quietly sighed.

Suspended in his animation,
Between just tangible vapour
And barely there air,
I can touch him and I can't,
Yet I know he's there

It was meant to be-
I was meant to be yours
Pride was never going to be our ally,
For we would thirst for each
other sans all ego,
You- like the barren earth,
Me- like the desperate raindrop,
One, in dire need of a quencher,
The other, homeless, searching for shelter,
We were meant to pine for unison,
We were meant to wander
without lover to hold our hand
so together we could get lost,
and find ourselves.
It was meant to be-
Me needing you,
You needing me,
To live, to breathe, to matter,
to *be

I'm penning a poem and letting it
Shoot towards the night sky,
And hang on to those little celestial
hooks that adorn the universe,
to fit itself amongst the million other shiny ones,
that gracefully illuminate our world.

Sending a glittery part of your heart
so far away, I won't lie, is hard,
yet the Gift to create as I write,
comes with its own fair price,
So I rub my palms together and
open them to find,
Magic with a shimmer so dazzling,
it needs a place in the Divine.

And off it goes! Launching from my fingertips,
Propelled by a charm I utter from my lips,
To snuggle into the welcoming realm
Of the mighty Heavens, my poem smiles
down on the Earth, twinkling with rhyme,

It sends across love to the broken hearts,
Radiates warmth to the shivering soul,
Wraps a comforting arm around the loner,
Soothes the ones wrought in sorrow,

For whoever looks above with despair in the eyes,
Finds that there's hope glimmering there up high,
and the stars of the verses created by You and I,
unhook themselves dutifully from their perch and fly
Down to the reader and calm their sighs,
Which is why,
Which is why,
The poet gladly diminishes his own light,
So his words keep alive, the benevolent night sky.

Cinderella-
She left her shoe behind as she ran,
Barefoot, unthinking,
she hurried on dewy grass
towards greener lands
and castles grand,
and chandeliers radiant,
and jasmines fragrant,

Cinderella-
did you realise that the
bloom which beckons from afar,
in reality, will only hurt and jar,
the sun, the glitter, and the stars
are faces of a deceitful mirage?

Cinderella, return!
You left your shoe behind,
You left your heart behind,
You left your prince behind,
You left yourself behind,
Save them all before they go ****!
It's only minutes until midnight.

She's been blooming ever since
She set foot on this earth,
With cheeks that people found akin
to cupcakes and a cackle that'd
make even the harshest ones swoon,
She'd bloom.

When she grew- she grew a tad bit awkward,
Beauty doesn't follow roadmaps,
So her eyebrows did a little mischief,
And her weight didn't really obey,
A pimple or two popped out too,
of its own accord,
Yet, with that fire in her heart
and the spark that it reflected her eyes,
though she didn't recognise,
she was making the world her own,
Yes, she was in bloom.

As she walks down her office corridor,
Sharp and chiselled,
Confident and aware
of every look, every stare
falling on her frame, she remembers the days
when she wasn't so much of a charmer,
and thanks her lucky stars that she did in the end
turn out to be a late bloomer.
I wish I'd tell her,
Oh if she'd listen, I'd tell her-
My dear, never once did your sheen waver,
Never once did your glory falter,
Through your clumsiness and your flaws
Through your missteps and your doubts,
You remained a stunner,
And will stay so, in your life and beyond,
For you are a perennial bloomer.

Cities aren't cities,
The people are the cities,
she'd say, and I didn't understand
what she meant until I realised

That Hauz Khas was our first stroll ever,
Khan Market- our best cup of coffee,
Humayun Tomb- our first stolen kiss,
Dilli Haat- our first quarrel,
The Lodhi Gardens- our biggest quarrel!
The Jama Masjid was where we'd always make up.

Now I know which market sells her favourite
bags, which gully keeps the anklets
she loves most, which discrete stall in the
by-lanes of Old Delhi is her best chaat-wallah ever,
Every nook, I know by the fragrance of her memory,
I try forget, I try erase,
But oh, I remember,
For she is my Delhi

Delhi is her, only her,
The city of first love, first dreams,
a million rights, a devastating wrong,
The city that now stings with the thorns
That make my feet bleed when I try to enter,
Even with my back turned,
The city hurls
Stones at my fragile heart and screams at me
to never return.
*I'll never return.

Medicine has no room for arrogance.
We don't just cure disease,
We cure humans.
The human body does always not go
by the books we've read or
the algorithms we've memorised,
The human body does not know
how famous we are, how much we earn.
The human body presents to us,
and places in our hands its life,
and trusts us with all it has,
to solve its puzzles.
Bizarre puzzles, really,
Sometimes so easy to piece together,
Sometimes turning more puzzling with
our attempts at deciphering
the meaning of the riddles it throws at us,
Sometimes a novice may solve them,
Irritating our egos but medicine
has no room for ego, either.

One can't be a doctor without
Selflessness, one can't be a healer
Without having one's feet planted
firmly on the ground, and the strength to
know that one can be wrong, and the
ability to question one's own reasoning,
And it isn't something we're taught,
It's something we build everyday by
Failing, fumbling, blundering, finally learning,
that's how the art of healing we acquire,
which is why, medicine isn't just a job-
It is a way of life.

When your conscience's clear like crystal
You set them off-balance,
For when they see you, and try
ever so hard to find faults in you,
All they see is themselves.
Because you are clean fresh dew!
Pure like sunlight; you act as a mirror
for the soul of the onlooker,
And so, as they peer into you looking
for deceit and dirt,
their own face stares right back at them,
ugly truth gloriously unfurled.
Your open goodness
irks them, agitates them, provokes them
to claw at you, use their might, to
destroy you and all that's right,
but little do they know that you-
are Invincible. Beautiful. Resilient.
Birthed from struggle.
Tempered by truth.
Chiseled by principles.
Challenged by adversities galore,
haven't you always conquered them all?
So shine! Shine with all your brilliance,
and no one can break you,
for your conscience is your greatest wealth,
for your conscience is your Kohinoor.

Trail of hickeys
On veiled skin-
Speaker of stories
Of storms and sins

Travel!

Pick up a bag,
Pack it light,
Venture off into the night!

Spot the silent ones,
Strike up a conversation,
Closed souls hold the most precious stories,
Let them open up to you, ever so gently.

Find a painting, a photograph, a sculpture!
There's a tale behind every hue,
every curve, every stroke, every frame,
Art is a window to the mind of the creator,
Get inside there, explore it, immerse yourself deeper!

And read. Wade through romantic sagas,
Edgy thrillers, flights of fantasies, and mythology,
Float through ages and places and people,
Let words in black and white teach you
the meaning of existence; let the silence of reading
sing to you the hymn of living

And then, my friend, go on,
go on and Write!
Write about your travels to mountain peaks
and fiery seas,
Into strangers' eyes, into your lovers' souls,
Scribble into your travelogue the meaning of
that graffiti at the corner of the street,
And your journey into books!- write, as
you hop from universe to universe,
To places,
Through pages,
Inside minds,
Ahead of time,
And watch how your experiences
Smoothly fall into place and
Effortlessly rhyme

No mistress of metaphor
No star of sonnets
No heroine of haiku
No queen of quatrain,
Merely in touch with the -
Language of longing,
Sanctity of sin,
Din of desolation,
Poetry of pain.

Slow cooked over a simmering flame
is how I'd like our love to be
Full of earthy fragrances and soft
crackling of fire fuelling our chemistry

Wafts of aroma will float through,
with the gradual deepening of the flavour
Impatient bubbles will form and burst,
Heightening the temptation to savour-

That delightful melange of emotions,
But we'll hold back and let there be
A deeper hue, a thicker consistency
To our painstaking alchemy

For the dish of love will be best served
When conceived with patient devotion,
So lend me a hand darling; let's slow-stir
together, our delectable concoction

Reluctant subject,
I nervously peered at
your kind lens as you clicked
I must have shut my eyes
The sun is so harsh anyway, I thought,
or given that crooked, half-hearted smile
that I usually end up with

Helpless photo-ruiner,
I gazed in surprise at the beauty
staring back at me,
And saw what you see in me
and fall in love with, everyday,
Looking at myself through your eyes,
I quietly realised,
It was your photograph's grace

The age of letting time take its
own, slow course is gone, perhaps
For every hour is rush hour,
Every meal is a quick-bite,
That cup of coffee always instant,
Honking even before the signal goes
from yellow to green, the rule

The age of savouring the moment
to its delicious limit is gone, perhaps
For every flaw is now a breaking point,
Every argument cause for a split-up
Every mismatch provocateur of second thoughts

In the age of waiting being obsolete,
Patience becoming a virtue redundant,
The plain, small joys of life becoming insignificant,
The material replacing the abstract,
The direction of the swipe on a touchscreen
Becoming the decider of the fate of love stories,
I'll never find you, perhaps,
If this world continues to function
Like a real-life dating app

Who are you?
The you we keep writing about,
We- the poets; poets around the world,
Across time immemorial and
space immeasurable,
We write about you,
We shape your skeleton
With the strength of all the pain
We've borne, and we sculpt your flesh
With the wistful beauty of our tears,
We bring you to life with our words
Make them course through your body
Like blood,
Who are you?

The cry of our first heartbreak?
The joy of a lover's return?
The stunning silence of absolute loneliness?
Of turmoil and torment, the stinging burn?

You're all of the above,
and more- profoundly more,
You're a piece of every poet's heart,
Infinite power, immense emotion,
You are the cumulative of every drop of blood
The poet has shed through their pen
You are the story that stays stifled inside
the confines of paper, until someone comes along
And unlatches your locks,
Absorbs the burden of the poet's grief,
And at that moment, brings you to the form in
which you had been intended to be.

It is then, that you, the very essence,
the very soul of the poet,
Can take flight, blissfully relieved,
When you are read, your creator is finally free.

Hectic, stormy, electric,
Piercing my insides like the
shriek of the fever-bird,
Fire, fire, fire within my being,
Melting my words,
Evaporating my thoughts
Into crazy whirlwinds,
Blurring lines, haze dissolving
the boundaries between
Sanity |  Sin,
Right and wrong,
Real and fantasy,
Mixing into a song,
Feverish, mad song
That longs, so urgently longs
To belong, to eternally belong,
To you-
The sole elixir, the only remedy
For my frenzied malady.

I see it,
It's within reach now
Soon- soon enough,
I'll get there,
*To the point where I just won't care

Morning commences with the friendly clink of
cups, sitting beside the tea cosy-clad kettle,
Fresh, calming fragrance of warm tea nudging at
My just-awakened senses, a little unsettled,

My favorite ghazal colors the background,
The record though scratchy, its influence unfaded;
Abida Khanum mellowly croons, urging her lover
to not insist on leaving that day.

I smell, instinctively, the red rose he hands me,
The same rose had traced my skin in the dark
The missing petals testimony to its journey
Over troughs and crests, marks and landmarks.

What is so utterly, heartwarmingly romantic
about something as simple as him spreading
butter on bread, mixing sugar in chai,
what makes his 'routine', for me so endearing?

He watches me eat, breaks into a smile so wide,
'How do you enchant me, even with the mundane?'
he asks, same question amusing us both,
Same passion coursing through our veins.

The poetess inside me, happily chuckles,
Of being the one expressive, of solely giving away-
Are the days of the past, as breakfast in bed
Becomes our way of Give and Take

Distracted from everything,
Floating away from all things
Worldly and untrue
I drift fixated,
Towards you, you, you...

Red
Is unabashed,
Glorious and proud,
Pure and sensuous,
Sure and loud.
Don't wear it!,
They whispered,
It's the color of sin!
It's the truest shade,
The very hue of life that
Runs beneath my skin,
I said,
And embraced with love,
Unblemished Red

You're a craving I'm unable to define
A thought that plays on and on
In the recesses of my mind,
a vague, nevertheless, an intense spark
of emotion I'm unable to point my finger at
right now, that yes,
I feel this about you,
It'd be less hard if I knew
what this strong whirlwind was,
Because if I knew,
I could tell you

The thrill is palpable,
Pulsating, powerful,
Electric,
Fierce heat it emanates,
Warming our faces,
We are radiant, we glow,
We both feel it,
We both know,
But none of us
is brave enough
to reach out right now,
so we just breathe with bated desire
and watch the lush fire,
crackle, hiss, seductively bloom,
one impatiently waiting for the other
to make the *first move

Silently she prowls,
Inhaling whiffs of his scent,
That inflames her through and through,
Igniting her every sense.
She circles outside his vision,
Sizing him up, drinking in
the rawness of his manliness
Watching him make his ****,
Wouldn't he like to see my skills?
she thinks to herself,
claws ready to pierce into his skin,
to mark his body as hers,
only hers,
she proceeds towards him,
concealing all her fire, all her madness,
beneath smooth, unruffled fur.
He harshly growls,
turning ferociously towards her,
And she,
demurely *purrs

Where did you hide our love, darling?
At the top of that snowy mount you scaled?
Or in the depths of the river you rafted in?
Or was it in the dank silence of those ancient caves-
The greens of the valley you camped in,
Or in her arms as you both gazed at the Milky Way
in its starry vast glory,
Where did you hide our story?
I wonder if it's too much to ask about
where the deathbed of our love lies,
I wonder if you'd tell me so I could wish it
one last goodbye

Take them off now,
It's been too long since
we've amused ourselves
with those layers of
goofy humour, non-sense jokes,
favourite song, favourite movie,
hell I don't even have any favourites
I just told you to keep
the conversation going, so
I could reach somewhere deep
beneath your colorful veil
and explore the place no one else has
touched,
dim and soft and silent and still,
house to your secrets,
your fears and your dreams,
your demons and your guardians,
the dark and the sunny
facets of your being-
take me there,
Disrobe yourself,
of these distracting layers

Resilience
Temptation
Resistance
More resistance!
Desire...
Powering,
Overpowering,
Unbearably overpowering,
Feeble opposition,
Finally, resignation,
And after this,
Sweet, chocolatey bliss.

*Impossible it is,
To watch your weight
Sitting at a table with
Friends who live to eat!

What's it like when you live with your soul
exposed bare each and every day,
surrounded by betrayal and deceit,
you cannot help being yourself.
Everyday you're let down by some,
lied to by some,
yet you give them your only weapon,
your only defense-
yourself-
your clean, unadulterated self,
that fails to fake, fails to hide,
that reveals its true colors
no matter how hard it tries.
You know they're not real,
and you think to yourself that you
do not care, you'll forget,
even if you don't forgive,
yet indifference is a lesson,
someone like you will never learn-
can never learn.
Because you keep your soul
exposed to the environs of this *****, ***** world,
Your soul is beautiful, it is crystal
inspite of breathing in this tainted, tainted air,
So, even though your truthfulness,
your blatant genuineness exasperates you yourself,
be proud that you are who you are,
because the real ones,
the misunderstood, the outspoken, the clumsy ones,
are the best there can ever be.

Why do you worry?
You are the muse, while I-
merely the flame,
that he'll use to light the dark
as he sculpts your frame,
and then extinguish with ease,
while chanting your eternal name.

Don't go by convention, na!
Grab a chair and sit next to me,
Not at the opposite side where
So distant you'd be,
No! I'm not saying so because I want to
hold your hand or something-
not that I would mind, but no-
Just sit beside me, so I could
lightly punch your arm,
secretly stare at your dimple,
watch your eyes mischievously twinkle,
also take a spoonful of your slice of cake-
so be near me and,
let closeness be the highlight of this first date.

I peer into the thoughts
In her lonely eyes,
Barren and wintry,
Cold as ice,
Colored lids do
Little to hide
The tales that toss
and turn inside
Speak to me darling,
go on, confide!
She feigns ignorance
to conceal her pride,
I try to draw the curtains,
shine her recesses with light, but
hastily receding, she pleads,
"please do come some other night"

Everybody has their thing,
The thing that makes them unique,
That, even when stifled by the mundane
everyday routines of mediocre living,
Undaunted, unaffected, bravely remains.

At times, we forget our thing-
We are made to, or make ourselves believe
That some other things are our thing,
Like, you know, 9-5 jobs, paychecks,
Project submissions, career graphs,
Shallow relationships, fake smiles,
Fake compliments...

Yes, I agree, they sometimes force themselves onto us,
But what we need to know is, that they're not
what our lives should revolve around;
what we should dance around, is that quality,
that precious thing that is ours,
and solely ours to own,
And, though worldly lies and trivialities,
Come and go away, as they please,
Our thing, crystal and true, faithfully stays.

I lived that feeling of fulfillment today,
Letting it win the tussle with the to-study list,
Letting it down the vague guilt of procrastination,
Letting it break free of the web of this and that,
that life ties us into-
I embraced my thing, and let it run untamed,
And now I'll read it, edit it, love it- my poetry,
And ponder over its name.

It's been a year since I tasted the sea
And let its vast strength wash over me

It's been a year since the mischievous sand
Tickled my bare feet, slipped out of my hands

And the sun kissed my starved skin,
Marking it all over, illuminating me from within,

If only I could close my eyes and be there for just a moment, if not more,
I'd lay myself, carefree, unarmed, vulnerable, at the endless sea shore

And as the sparkling waves would splash over my thirsty soul,
I'd become one with water, sun and sand- for just a moment, if not more.

A certain peace envelops
The second hour of the night,
A little mellow, a little electric,
The ratios positioned just right

I'm sure this chai I'm dreamily sipping on,
Would not seem as delectable in the day
As it is right now, with its caffeine
Making all my senses with abandon, sway

That's the thing about this hour, I say,
Its still tranquility, its silence and calm
is merely superficial; if you're up this time,
you're part of a storm

A simmering storm, with a quiet surface,
and a whirlpool of life concealed within,
A psychedelic fiesta booming with
A myriad of emotions beneath the brim

Indeed, Silence turns Audible,
Colors turn Tangible,
Misery turns Defeatable,
Loneliness turns Affable

Music begins to make all the more sense,
When freed from the cacophony of the day,
In fact, the night will tune a sweeter melody
If you'll put those headphones away

And listen! Listen to the solitude,
The slow tick-tock of the clock,
The distant horn of a car somewhere,
The occasional howl of a street dog,

The rustle of leaves as they dream in their slumber,
The whisper of the wind as it strolls outside,
The sound of Papa's snoring the sole interruption,
To the fluid rhythm of the night.

A certain contenment surrounds me tonight,
As I bid goodbye to the second hour revelry,
Where my sentiments turned to words,
And words turned into my long departed but duly returned,
*Poetry

I may not be able to
Shape you into a poem today,
Though you've been calling out to me
From quite some time now,
Know that I'm keeping you safe
Inside my heart,
Where all my emotions rest,
Where all my peace and turmoil conjoins
and fills up my being, makes me real,
I'm going to keep you there,
Dear idea, bask in my happiness,
Feel my pain, the knots of my confusions,
The force of my convictions,
The pangs of my regrets,

And wait for me,
For, when the time is right,
I'll reveal you to the world,
In all your wisdom and beauty,
Wait for me, my love.

Until I'm able to put you into words,
Feel at home inside my soul.

Loving you is an acquired taste
Like my love for cheesecake,
Strange, unfamiliar, sour-ish at first,
Frowned upon by many, not understood by some,
Which slowly grew upon me, with its
Pleasant softness, the delicious gooeyness of its core,
the sweet, sweet feeling long after it's
touched my lips,
Loving you, an uncharted flavour then,
makes all the sense in the world *now

I am the star of small groups,
Intimate meetings, close friends,
Personal conversations,
Old, private jokes- they are my thing,
Talking to someone i barely know
Seated at a far corner of a noisy table,
Is something I just can't do,
A "remember when..." gets more out of me
Than a "what's up",
So, in a crowd, I may be the "quiet" type,
But at a table of four, I am full of life,
I can become the life of that table,
I'm that type,
The in/ex-trovert,
That's me, what about you?

Hearts bound by Destiny don't obey
the rules of distance, time, realities;
they cannot be chained by worldly restraints

For their bond had been carefully crafted
that day the universe had taken upon itself
to bring their love story to completion

And who can defeat the universe?
Constraints, tangible and intangible,
try but miserably fail,

As the two hearts, sometimes flutter,
Falter, fly hither-thither,
But never go away much further

And are pulled back together,
again and again - again and again!,
With the strings of their celestial love, unbreakable

Sparks fly when the hearts conjoin,
Reeling from separation, their love now intensified;
The beatific universe watches over them

*And blissfully smiles

I love you and there's no if or but about it,
I love you like I've known all my life how to,
Like I was born with the feeling oxygenating
my blood, my very core,
I love you even when I try to deny it,
I think about you even if I am thinking about something else,
You're always there, sometimes in background,
sometimes in foreground, but you're always there, why?
Because I love you!
With you I leave all the road maps behind,
With you I don't go according to "plan",
You take my plans and set them haywire,
Jazz them up into something unexpected and
Phenomenal, you take me to the road I would never
have taken, but I do, because that road has
You.

It's that time of the night again

The memory of your presence
Lulls me to soft sleep
But the shock of your absence
Pulls me awake again

I toss and turn in this gnawing pain
It's that time of the night again

Cornered by two-faced,
Three-faced, uncountable-faced,
No-faced monsters-
The so-called confidantes,
Well-wishers and friends,
Who deep down are back-stabbing fiends-
I put up a brave face,
And try to take them on,
With a true face, my only face.
I will hold my own

Heartbeat aflutter,
Rhythms skip and stutter,
Slip as if on butter,
It's the end of those days forlorn,
the heart sounds in triumph,
*Crush Alert- ON!

Our fingertips touch and the world
Comes to a standstill-

Still as all of nature at dusk,
Silent as the moonlight on a starless night,
Heavy as the gurgling clouds just before it rains,
Blinding as the sun in all its glory and light

Our fingers begin a rhythmic dance,
As if playing the piano, rendering a favorite song,
Knowing the pace, the moves by heart,
Not faltering once, not going wrong,

Then twined together, we blissfully lay,
Content, peaceful, complete.
The moment of oneness cupped between our hands
preserved for all of eternity.

I cannot help but lament at
The futility of being a word-weaver,
As I try and search for the
Perfect topic that could steer
My blundering, fumbling conversation
With you to something more than ordinary
Alas, hours pass and I fail miserably, so,
Dejected, I lucidly write about it on Hello Poetry.

I bared my all when
I told you timidly that I write.

When I nervously breathed to you,
That it was time,

To watch me turn unruly
verses into rhyme,

And handed you disarrayed pages
Saying they housed the essence of my life,

My soul, my self, my being
Shone at you in the twilight,

I know you chuckled at my earnestness,
But know, dear lover of mine,

I bared my all the day
I told you timidly that I write

Insulated by your embrace
From all chaos and commotion,
I take refuge in your arms so strong,
While the world continues to toss and turn

Too much a part of my system,
My being, my thoughts-
Deepest of thoughts,
The shape of all my desires,
Precious, precious love,
When did I imbibe so much of you
When did I weave you so intricately
Into all my innocent and all my complex
Dreams,
Your face beams
At me, through your absence,
Stays with me,
Plays with me,
Leaving me to wonder in amazement,
When did I make you so much a part of me, that
I became you | You became *me

Oh what a wonderful phase
We are in right now, us five girlfriends,
With defunct love lives and no immediate hope
of securing a boyfriend.

Oh what freedom there is, in
branding ourselves "unaffordable platinums",
And priding ourselves at being too good for
those mortal, fallible, self-proclaimed "alpha" men.

Such hypocrites we are, actually,
Ridiculing and belittling that cute guy,
Still discussing his every move, nudging
and giggling at each other when he passes by.

But hey, call us hypocrites, evil, mean-
All of it we whole-heartedly accept.
Right now, we're living life in moments,
And our bucket list of madness, we mean to "check"-

Aimless flirting - check!
Pointless bedtime discussions - check!
Choosing a guy and then dissecting
His every habit - check,
His dressing style- check,
His twinkling eyes- check,
That had met ours today over lunch break- YES! Check!,
His last aloof message- check,
Sending an even more curt response- check,
Our hidden hopes that he would reply,
With affectionate words and also apologize,
For all the times he wasn't all that nice- wistful check.

Oh we're a bundle of emotions, us five,
Sans pressures and restrictions that a guy brings along,
Sans complexities and compulsions that come free
With his supplies of testosterone.

So, broadcasting this to all you gentlemen out there,
If you ever venture into our line of sight,
Prepare to be scrutinised, evaluated, and then rejected outright,
By this precious, exuberant pack of platinum five.

12 am
Choose a profound song,
Play it on repeat,
Study feverishly while the song plays.
Go away, Sleep!

2 am
Let the song still play on,
Guiding your thoughts to the very deep,
Telling your heart that the night's
Too young still, to sleep.

4 am
The loop is never-ending,
Mind numbed by racing at top speed,
Yet thoughts and memories charge on,
Musically gnawing away your sleep

The birds have awoken now**
Nothing feels real anymore,
Life/love/promises-you want none to keep,
As soon as you "Stop" the haunting music,
Realising again tonight, that all that matters, actually,
Is a beautiful Sleep.