Isn't it fun to read between the lines?
Like for every sentence and every word
A writer conveys something with so much worth

Isn't it fun to read beyond the lines?
That even though the writer wrote it with boundary
But you're thinking leads you to a endless land from just a cranny

Isn't it fun to read behind the lines?
Like for every lovely and eloquent lines
You can see the dripping tears and a torned heart with no rhymes

Isn't it fun to read among the lines?
Tread among the words and unspoken letters
Where you'll meet and see yourself face to face with wings and feathers

Isn't it so much fun to read a writer's lines?
And isn't it so much fun to write a writer's line?
You'll never know where reading and writing will take you.
Isn't it so fun?
©

Somewhere in me
there exists a being
made up of all the reasons
that insist me
to stop loving you.

At times when I ignore it
and instead look away
towards you
It stares me hard,
starts blabbering abuse
as I keep looking at you.

But at the end of the day
when I am home,
heart-broken
by your indifference,
it reaches me back
wipes my tears
and puts me to sleep
in a blanket of lessons.

That being,
made of reasons.

I envy him a lot
Just look at his eyes
Burning with so much passion
Then look at mine
Just some black beady eyes

Just look at his smile
Filled with determination
Then look at mine
Just a crooked half assed smile

Just look at how he moves
It flows with so much eagerness
Then look at mine
Just a lazy *** that tries hard

I envy him a lot
How can he be like that?
Why can't I be like that?

Just look at him as a person
And you'll feel a different sensation
Then look at me and you'll see
Just a half baked gingerbread man.