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 Nov 2016 Lawan
Nishu Mathur
It's cold outside but warm within,
Rose candles golden glow,
With you here right beside me -
Let winter say hello!

The fire's all cracklin',  blazin'
On the wall play love's shadows,
Contours of time a-racin'
Let winter winds bellow!

Your eyes like stars a-twinklin'
I'm lit from my head to toes,
The chords of my heart a-jinglin',
Let cold winds blusterin' blow!

Hearts alive, all hustlin'
And the music turned so low,
Whispers of sweet nothings
As winter steals the show...

A white night beaut' unfurlin',
Snowflakes dance so slow,
Twirlin' , whirlin', swirlin'
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!

***********


Inspired by the song...
 Nov 2016 Lawan
Ransom'sTake01
Emotionally secure, not that's a hitting question,
one that I tend to be in bed second guessing.
Still so much is happening, and any end I see none.
Don't matter whether in the sky it's the moon and stars, or sun.
I've been sleeping lately, yes, with the most disturbing dreams,
Mainly of a disturbing context, really the most natural things.
Just cause this is not a house, that's not what makes it not a home.
It's the fact of what I fear most here is being not alone.
Maybe I just gave this to myself. Maybe I knew what the goal is.
Right there on my shelf, just me who didn't notice.
All I know now is that the future is unsafe in this environment.
Perhaps it's everyone temperament, will this ever be different?
I can go out easily and escape without anyone to know,
but then once I start interacting it's all a social show.
Maybe say they want to feel my pain, but the question never comes up.
This world is just too busy, everyone seems to have enough sorrow in their cup.
Yes I keep on playing this life as it's a playground,
going through these mood swings, watch everything slide down.
The fact's just I need help, I need to know someone's with me.
I've had too many people already bound to forget me.
 Nov 2016 Lawan
M
My Own
 Nov 2016 Lawan
M
Relinquish the feelings forget the momentary stealing of that silken hand by my own,
It was never mine to take no matter how many times I raked my ******* brain for reasons to touch
To postpone
The truth

It was never the same
It being feelings sending me reeling towards an indifferent you
But different, who touched me first whose fault is it that I am immersed in remembering the shapes of the lines that traced your palms?

My own.

It is all my own.
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