A perfect poem...
   Is it the one that's well written,
Or the one having a greater meaning.?
   Is it the one with perfect verses,
Or required a perfect rhyming?
   Is it the one that speaks to all,
Or the one having hidden mysteries?
   Is it the one that let you vent,
Or the one with you wouldn't deal?
   Is it the one that opens wounds,
Or the one that makes you heal?
    Is it the one that came out of a chaos,
Or the one describing the peace?
    Is it the one that told the tale of the chains,
Or the one giving you freedom wings?
    Is it the one about the Prince charming,
Or the one exercising the demons?
    Is it the one describing the vast beauty of the nature,
Or the one about havoc of disaster?
     Is it the one that makes you smile,
Or the one that bring tears in the eyes?
     Is it the one that's written with the ink,
Or the one that bled through it all?

I'll say perfect is overrated. ..
  A poem is what that smooths an ache within the soul you never knew existed.
Just being able to pen down the thoughts gives an immense joy that you can't buy anywhere in this world.
And being brave enough to put it out there to be judged and commented that itself is a perfect poetry!!.

Keeping everyone at the arm length,
    Not trusting a soul.
This isolation you choose for yourself,
    Is it yours or someone else's fault?

A jaded heart,
     A broken trust.
          A love unfinished,
                And an unquenched thirst.

It hurts to love,
    More so to be loved.
           A race unending,
                  But finishing is must.

Trusting the instinct,
     No fear to be ashtray.
              Fighting the battle,
                     No shelter  ,   no escape.

A pilgrimage of your own,
          Don't need the rest.
                 Everyone left behind,
                       Turned to ashes or dust.

Is it really about?
        If you need someone or not.
You came alone in this world,
        You gonna go alone as well.

Pestered and pursued
by unknown foes
A topsyturvy land
where snakes can have horns
and cows can have fangs.
Night'mares' where the day's stallions
make mountains out of molehills

A chance to witness greek mythology-like creatures for real
For dreamland tis a place for the unreal and surreal.

Those hair-raising scary scary dreams
beset with horrified silent screams!

We do try to interrupt nightmares, pinching ourselves
With relief wake up to see there aren't any horrid elves.
We also try to interpret dreams filled with mystery
But gifted dream interpreters like prophet Joseph
Are now part of biblical human history

All in all, dreamland's fascination
for extra-ordinary exaggeration
and tall-tale imagination

Where myth and legend come to life
An amalgam of fiction or real strife

Where assorted monsters of the mind
reign supreme in that REM sleep of our kind.

Yet on the other hand the wishful, wistful sweet sweet dreams
where fantasies form mirages bordered by fanciful seams.

Where castles in the air that humans build, float gently down to earth
only to shoot back up unto nowhere from the awakened one's berth.

In dreamland a pauper girl can be a princess or fairy fair
for daydreams extend into the night and linger on there.

A quote I took to heart and it to console all and sundry
'that if your sweet dreams don't come true, don't you fret
for atleast your nightmares didn't come true either,
so just heave a sigh, by and by.

Every night let us all just fly away and escape
And lo behold  the extraordinary world of Dreamscape