Yesterday,
School felt a bit happy,
The walls felt a bit loved,
The benches felt the touch of little fingers,
The ambience was full of chatter,

School is missing it's main ingredients,
The laughter,
the banter,
the hushing of teachers,

The queues,
the assembly,
the prayers in morning and in noon,

The lunch area is missing the smell of delicious food,
the craving,
the raving and the steps coming in and moving out,

Yesterday,
for few moments at least,
The place felt loved and lively again,
The new girl who is not too new now,
felt welcoming and believed the school is hers in true sense.

The cheers were real,
The friendship bloomed,
Never to end,
A relationship began.

Sparkle In Wisdom

There is something wrong about
The way i breathe
The way my lungs fill
The way the air leaves

There is something wrong about
The way we kiss
The way your eyes roll
The way i choke on this

The atmosphere tastes sour
Like a papercut
and
The taste on your tongue
Isn’t foreign
But that doesn’t mean it’s welcome

There is something heavy about
The way you’re numb
The way you’re ******
So you can be with someone

The children flying kites and laughing at all those heads buried into the blackened pikes that line the ridge and while crossing the bridge of whys they were still laughing at all those poor guys who wouldn't be poor anymore,

It makes me proud to praise that the children we raise are not frightened of bloodshed or the odd head or two on a pike or two doing what lopped off heads do which isn't much,

but that thinking is so nineteenth century when at the height of the running sores known only later as ****** wars it all seemed so passable, laudable, die for the cause if you're able to,

and now all we do
is crochet
knit
play croquet on the lawn
some people today don't know
that they've been born.

Sleep my beloved, upon the field of stars.
    Ardent and bright, in the nothingness that awaits.
______________
I hear your whispers upon my heart,
   I hear its beating in response,
     I laugh and I cry at the same time,
         in this pleasure grief but endures,
             but my happiness lasts unchanged
______________
Sleep my beloved, hear my lullaby.
in the nothingness of the cosmos, paint me a sign upon constellations
-Towards our future meeting,
     unaware, we are already there
        for in you my soul dies,
              and my heart sleeps.