Harsha Vytla Aug 2016

Dear fresher,
I know that you are:
Alone, in a crowd of hundreds
Crying, without tears
Sturdy, only when parents call
Anxious, on your walk around the campus
Withdrawn, to say Hi to a stranger
Sitting, with an empty chair next to you
Scrutinizing others, sharing a table
Conjecturing, why isn't anyone next to you
Things will get better, hold on
The late before night won't have any prudence
The early before morning would be drivel
But, if things don't go that way,
Don't worry
I'll be there for you
Sitting in the fourth last or perhaps the fourth canopy
Staring at the lonely tree.

Harsha Vytla Aug 2016

Such a big sin
Ripping the skin
A surreptitious act
Skinning the carcass

Religion for humanity
Turned into others insanity
Harsha Vytla Aug 2016

Mankind is saddened by my deed
Flattered to be in no one’s need
The utter displeasure of all time indeed
Never did I turn the pages of the faultless chap,
A thousand rules to abide
Not even one by my side
Howling in an unfilled room
Searching wisdom on how to groom
Torn apart with all the insult
Pulled the trigger with no consult
A whisper or two
Of we love you
Could have saved him from the death toll too.

Harsha Vytla Aug 2016

The chat box I open
again and again
To read our conversation
from beginning to end
The lies we’ve told to look cool?
Should have rather played 8 – ball pool.
And now,
It’s not you in my notifications
but some silly candy crush invitations
We’ve been 'friends for five years'
Still your voice could never echo through my ears
At the internet cafe,
The 20 bucks I’ve spent on you?
Should have rather played Dota 2.

Harsha Vytla Aug 2016

What I’m about to say might not be clear
It’s not your fault if you couldn’t hear
Sorry about the bad opening there
I’m just avoiding the free verse here
Now, I’m no Shakespeare
But please don’t mishear
And don’t just disappear
Or be a mere sight-seer
I would love it, if you could endear
For what I am now and forever.

Harsha Vytla Aug 2016

The roads are covered with drain
How would one take pleasure in you, dear rain?
Everyone's exasperated by you; can't you see?
I presume:
They're afraid of being late
But you're the faultless pretext to be made
Sometimes flood, sometimes drought
You're a perilous proffer to be brought.

— The End —