shut myself
behind unspoken
silence

shield myself
heard is
but a need

hide feelings
behind
forsaken petals

seal words
into unbridled
memories

protect me
from
popularity

i am apathy
here i am writing for nobody to read
talking to no one to listen
speaking for nobody to hear

i am pathetic
there's nobody willing to pay attention
i wonder why i have yet to reach the hollows of depression
or am i already in beyond my realisation..?

i am sad
worthless 21 years
used and manipulated
never appreciated nor important

i am angry
all you stupid people
treat me like disposable
calling me despicable

i am self-centered
i don't want to care about you
i'll start caring for me
it'll be just me, mine and myself
from now on.....
                               ...it'll be a lonely world but i'm still surviving...

happy birthday to you
this song i sing to you
always a song to you
never a song to me from you

happy birthday to you
this gift is from me to you
a friendship obligation towards you
but never remembered by you

happy birthday to you
here i am eating with you
smiling for the birth of you
while all i had was an online greeting from you

happy birthday to you
perhaps it never crossed you
that i have a birthday just like you
and i have yet to celebrate mine with you

You can either see
a glass half empty or half full
either way there's still something
what if there's nothing to be seen?

I am that empty glass
void of contents
no room for friends
no dreams for sympathy
incarcerated by cynics
locked by betrayal

I tried filling this empty glass with many shed tears;
yet that black hole keeps vacuuming
till all that remains
painful loneliness

I tried asking for Answers
Silence was the Answer
what sort of answer is silent?
I refuse this absurd paradox

I tried feeling this empty glass
with pathetic poetry
I got no appreciation
for each word i put every thought into.

These are the reasons
empty glass remain thus
clanging
in the midst of a noisy world

So label this glass fragile
only time will tell
this glass to break
there would be fiasco
I'll save you a front seat.

It lures nobody;
mediocrity of a pen
pieces unnoticed.

Blue spills
transcending borders
rush forward in vigour
pull back in cowardice
cradle of life
pleas to remedy
the cruel irony
delivered to the hands
seek and robbed.

This ink is tasteless
so unlike the desire of the pen;
the hands of agony
bleeds in frustration
anger propelling many wastes.

Fingers many a tapping
knocking on the door of inspiration;
Alas !
all that remains is the dead black night
mirrored in a ubiquitous cup of coffee
bearing more tasteless inks
wasting the passionate desire of lamps.

She would be dressed pretty in rags
slaving like there's no tomorrow
without that bit of altruism
maybe a tad kindhearted
shrouded in materialism.

Fairy godmother's name
is money
lures her
to a game of fame
keeps silent
of its rules.

Her beauty
makes her a winner
she would
be drunk
attention
glamour
pleasure.

Unknowingly
games drawn to an end
the clock strikes twelve;
Struck her
riches to rags
the magic of money
only lasts so long
Struck her
still had not find
her one true love
at the eleventh hour.

Sobered
ran out in embarrassment
left only a glass slipper.

Desolate
returning to rags
a druggie for fame
with much hope
a prince charming
would remember
her to find.

a gentle shower
with love from the monsoon
splashing footsteps rang
a hasten pace
soon escalates
into
a thunderstorm of fury.

squeezing
my heart
dry
remnants
are the footprints
you left in my darkest hour.

The infectious disease that festers when there is *loneliness.

i'm writing
without inspiration
no topic to write about
no subtle aspiration.

what do i want to achieve?

i'm writing
discovering the hollow in me
and
filling them up all the same.

this is my hole, my haven.

so i burned the kite and and the mails
scattered their ashes to the winds
in hope
at least
You would hear
even if they wouldn't.

i saw the promise You made to Noah,
*Thank you for hearing me out.

the clouds are as heavy
as your eyes are, with tears
don't let it rain over me.

Sometimes rain is needed for us to see the rainbow.

In a generation of decadence
it's sad
that we cannot simply enjoy
simple civility.

Perhaps inflation
has taken a toll on our cost of living
increasing the price
we need to pay
to earn civil manners.

Girl, do you want a bad boy?
Warning:
if you can't handle the heat,
get off the stove.

Know them:
Bad boys are bad
not there to put up some suave show
they do bad stuff with ill intentions
not just some petty mean stuff.

Identify them:
They may not even look like one
cue the handsome look
they may even act like angels
it's really hard
differentiating them
from their goody two shoes counterpart.
How i find one when there's no archetypal look??

Game plan and execution:
1. Do something to blend in,
   not asking you to dabble in crime.
2. Make them feel at ease with you
If you're hot, you can opt to skip to step 2. You can be rest assured you won't blend in like the normal plebeians.


     So open your eyes wide
you might strike the lottery!
  if you're (un)lucky you may score one
          real bad ***.
Good luck in your pursuit.

P.S: They are not a species near extinction.

Feelings are simple,
there is no need to complicate things.

People make them cryptic
in effort of conveying them
that sometimes
they themselves too get lost
in a repetition festival of superfluous words.

A child's job
is to dream;
dreams would condense
into
clouds of cotton candy.

Clouds
shelters them
from
watchful sun's erratic behaviour;
if sun e'er too angry
melted clouds
can be plucked
for reminiscence.
If e'er a mass too heavy,
will pour sugary rains
of passion.

Winds have no power
to emancipate
clouds
from sheltering
the innocence of a child.

The flying kite never returns.
Postal mails not replied.
Someone unkind
severed our connections.

It is not punishment
if you don't feel
pain
embarrassed
humiliated
even
if there's force
anger resounded
curses pronounced.

Punitive means
can come
in the form of simplest actions,
sometimes without intentions.

man abuses
man kills
God disposes
God heals.

If you collect my tears,
a sea will drown you.

Please don't say you need me
You only need food, water, shelter and clothing to survive.

Please don't say you want me
I am not food for your lust.

Please don't say you will die for me
I'll ask you to jump off the cliff right away.

Please don't say you will follow me
I don't need a stalker.

Please don't say you will protect me
Because it makes you a hypocrite.

Please don't say you love me
I am not ready for another heartbreak.

We* all have weights on our shoulders
                                                       ­ so
Why *discriminate people for their weight?
We all have fats in our body
so why single out and point at that plump person
just to have a good laugh ?
                                                       or
Are you so insecure of yourself?
There are only two types of people in the world;
those who are happy and those who are miserable.
So don't look at our physical weight,
look at our tired shoulders
who have been carrying our emotional weight.

Should i cry?
i thought i would be crying
like i once did before
in face of failures.

Should i cry?
it is human to shed tears of sadness
strangely, i don't have tears
for this sadness numbs my senses.

Should i cry?
somebody please hear me out
hear my heart drop as she loses spirit
deluding my senses from enjoyment.

Buttery sun rays
bidding farewell to daylight
colours me shameful.