We each partook of our respective
Champagne glasses almost in spot on simultaneity
Toasting to a life full of nicety
Hadn’t we been born with silver cutlery
In our mouths?
Armed with a sense of perspective
But this doesn’t guarantee an alienation of misery
We being hormonal imbalanced youths
Rational irrationality the bedrock
Of most if not all our decisions
We ourselves each other’s stumbling block
Nursing grandiose delusions.
We hence seldom ‘work ‘hand in glove
As we’re “drunk in love”.

His smile
Is precious
We're young
But not reckless
Sweet not sour
Love is developing
More and more
By the hour

I am standing in the
middle
of this
buzzing road
surrounded by heavily crowded pools
filled with plenty of other souls.

                               there's so many of them
                               too many of them
                   how can I ever feel alone?
                               but I am
                                                 alone.

they came in pairs,
in triplets,
quadruplets,
and a million more number variations that I am too lazy to mention!
they are going about the day,
basking in the sunlight of their current successes,
bragging.
I wish they would shut up

                               there's so many of them.
                               too many of them.
             how can I ever feel alone?
                               but I am
                                                alone.

I can feel the temperature shift beneath my feet
as I slightly stumble on a
rough patch
they were helping each other ever so kindly
...but not me.
                              there's so many of them around me
                              too many of them
            how can I ever feel alone?
                              but I am still
                                                      alone.

bu­t I don't much care about that lot
there is another lot
and there are worse feelings:

                 like feeling shrivelled up in your own
                           world and left to rot,
                                      lonely
             with the people who are supposed to be
                                  your home.





                              **I am alone.

Explorer of ink smudges and paper cuts,
She pilots her pen along the roads of a page.
With crisscrossed legs, she travels with windswept hair,
Scrawling to him on a route of blue and the red:
"Each moment we are together,
we write a new line of this poem."

He rummages through leaves of paper,
Words scribbled upon the pieces
like freshly fallen snow upon tree branches.
He searches in vain, seeing only her emerald-brown eyes.
Finally, with words at a breakneck speed, he writes:
*"And yet, there will never be verses enough
to encompass the scope of our voyage."

so much pain
in the heart's
broken treasure:

so much rain
in the night's
silent azure,

silvery mirrors
scream only tears;
eyes forbid, it mends

lonely lips
with voicelss words
and sudden ends,

bittersweet memories
of once somber past
left ashes in the chest,

your absence hurts
more than anything,
but then all is lost