she reached this ugly place
and found a dark trace
that captured the terror within her face,

the trace became like a hole
within her senses and heart
like a nasty big ball

she ran towards nothing !
like she was in an actual race
because, this dark lie!
put her in a dangerous case
until the trace shone again!
behind her, like a grace
and suddenly, stood up!
in front of her!
like a heaven base

she stoped, and felt sorry
when the evilness within the grace, was too sick
she licked its inner wounds so quick
until it healed, and its health became thick
but all of the sudden,
  she felt the hit!
on her head by a huge stick.

there
within this scary darkness
she left her breath with sadness
and about the evilness
that hiding within the grace soul
you can taste its gladness

I like you
When we first met
I like you
When you made me laugh
I kinda like you a bit

I think you're cute
When you're a dork
I think you're cute
When you say my name
You're cute

I'm nervous
When you touch me
I'm nervous
When we're all alone
I feel nervous

I blush
When you text me
I blush
When you kissed my cheek
I blush
When you tell me I'm cute
You make me blush

It hurts
When you say we're only friends
It hurts
When others flirt
It hurts
When you're not around

I like you
When you're rambling
I like you
When we watch movies
I like you
When you hug me
I like you
When you're with me
I think I like you a lot

Maybe,
I tried to find the answers
I already knew,

I was just too stubborn to acknowledge
that my once empty canvas
is now colouring with your hue;

double-minded
windy-watered
broken-masted
ship going down

your gatemouth gasping

air strickened
crooked shooter
surrender flaggin
surround sound

laugh track laughing

dry sailing
guard railing
panic flail wave wailing
as i roll away from you
clowns

lying as you're back-tracking

pin-pointed
spot-lit
rubber-ruled
measuring cup
baby get your fill

loose lip hanging
from your teeth
just like laundry drying
on the line
which is thin

Your gatemouth hanging open
in a grit-tooth hundred year
sand laden wind

Paint flowers so they don't die ,
A memory of all contrivances , beautiful in the minds byre!

Alas ! A temporal fragment in the book of life .
Perceive what is to conceive !
Life indeed is short ,
A perfect balance one must strive .


© Mrunalini.D.Nimbalkar