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I would've given birth
To you,
Endured whatever
Mothers do.
Instead, I did
What Dads do.

I rocked you
Til my future shook;
Watched you til
I couldn't look.
As you changed,
I changed too,
To do the things
That Dads do.

You were bathed,
Dressed and fed;
I loved you so much
I was saved.

If there's credit,
Well, I get it,
For teaching you to read.
I took the blame
When you got bored
With school's ABC's.

I followed you
In all your roles,
Your teams,
Your solos,
Your trips,
Your shows.
First to clap,
Last to sit;
I taped it all,
From start -
To finish.

I taught you
How to tie a lace,
Ride a bike,
Golf and skate.
When time arrived
For you to drive,
You learned
On standard,
Never stranded,
You came home alive.

Your highs
I took in stride,
By example taught
Humility's pride.
Your lows,
I couldn't internalize,
I dropped my guard
With my eyes.

When Dad's do well
It's a double edge,
The future wedge.
The world
Revealed
Desired you too.
I don't dismiss
What mothers do,
But when Dads do well,
Both lose you.
 Sep 2014 Shruti Atri
Urmila
Truths
 Sep 2014 Shruti Atri
Urmila
The truth has multiple versions,
You cling to your version,
Condemning any other version as a lie,
Missing out on a chance to explore other truths
 Sep 2014 Shruti Atri
Louise


So you want my story
the story of my life
the secrets I have kept,
the many I've tried to hide

You don't want to know
the story or the tale
let's just not mention it
the past, on its ship did sail

I'm continuing to let go
of the past and the hurt
I'm a woman that's still growing
leaving behind the bruised little girl

One day I will be healed
and maybe sleep at night
hopefully before I've completed
the story of my life


Who am I?
I'm a piece of work.
A block of marble,
A chip of rock.
A driftwood face,
Waiting near a dock.
A song without refrain,
You won't sing again.
A pattern, pinned for sewing,
A garment good for stowing.
A man in queue,
Looking back at you.
A canvas smeared in gesso,
Leaning near a frame.
A sonnet missing
A rhyming couplet,
An octave and a sestet.
I am
A work in progress
For Joe's request.
Story of me

Frankly
I am not Gautham(nick name)
I am Babu(given name)

Amateur writer

Am waiting for
A meaning of life

this was my dream

Not at all satisfied
And convinced
With my work
Here

Credits to all my
Inspirations
Especially
Joe cole
Elizabeth squires
Pradip chattopadhyay
Marian(her family Hilda,Timothy)
Venusoul
There are more
Sorry for my disability
couldn't mention everyone
By name
Sorry
It's very difficult for a
Person like me to write
About Myself
 Sep 2014 Shruti Atri
bones
The night
the moon started
to drip
a silver drop
fell from
it's tip
and carved
in the dark
the sweep
of an arc
so fine
we thought heaven
had split.
 Sep 2014 Shruti Atri
Joe Cole
I lay there semi reclined
The sweat of terror soaking
My body
A piercing blinding light penetrating
My head
Burning, burning, no escape
Then out of the corner of my eye
I saw him
Masked, an evil maniac look in his eyes
My fist clenched in fear
Nails digging into the palms of my hands
I screamed as he raised the hypodermic
Checked the level of the contents
I screamed again
No
No
And then
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
He spoke
"Don't worry Mr Cole
One tiny injection then we'll soon have
That tooth out"
Sorry but I just couldn't resist it
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