chasing shades across the borderline
Living shadows leave me misaligned
Shaking hands, release compounded ideas
Violent dreams

Slipping farther from an open mind
Blue and broken, for end of time
Parting ways, never could decide
Just how it should be

Counted down all the time i spent
Reuniting with my arguments
Running lists of all types, worthlessness
Not that hard to see

Don’t look at me through eyes
like the fog that clothes the valley
on an early morning in spring
       and say that you are not free.

Willful and wild, you are the wind.
You could spring upwards as though on wings,
singing and dancing,
       entrancingly lively as you slide over the lilac.

Don’t tell me you feel trapped,
that you’ve shorn off your wings
and built a bunker, brick by brick,
       where the wind no longer touches.

“You are free” I tell you.
How can I show you what I know:
that you were meant to fly?
       Carefree and breezily as the clouds in the sky?

But when I say “go! fly away!”
You dejectedly stand,
and when I say “you are free”
       you just don’t understand.

Do you ever feel the noon breeze?
hot yet relaxing brings you to an ease
it unfold the memories inside my brain's deepest crease
mesmerizing breeze i am standing under a tree
Moringa Oleifra the mighty
on which sits a sparrow chirping in mystique
and another strange little bird with long black beak
chirping tooo-weeee-t
on the other branches two squerrals playing hide and seek
and there sits a crow alone on one peak
i am in whirl of memories of past year 2016
didn't i mention it's about a boy in his thirties
he talked ocean deep
but treated me like i am a feast
like he is a ringmaster and i am his beast
i can still feel the pain of that time when all the good is out of my reach
Why do i think of him now when i am in peace?
would he think of me like i did?
nah or may be
nostalgic or i might weep
my orange colored dress doesn't irritate me in this scorching noon
but thoughts of you did
i have to head back from this muzz
i am going back to my people who loves me
where i am allowed to refuse
where there is no abuse
i am returning to peace
goodbye noon breeze

. . . You
**** me, you
Are the best thing that has ever
Happened to . . . Me. . .

"NOTHING MUCH FOR MINORS"

Minors are those less than eighteen,
As they don't have knowledge in keen.

They don't have a driving licence,  
As don't have driving sense.

Minors are given just pen and page,
Their life is not more than a cage.

Holiday is not given even on sundays,
As their age is negligible for fundays.

Parents are worried not to get blame,
From minors they just want their fame.

Circumstances are same for every minor,
Parents are just their life designer.  

                  -Sahaj Sabharwal.
                  -Chowk Chabutra,
                  -Jammu.          
                          -11th Class.
©sahajsabharwal
Delhi Public School, Jammu #India #Poem #Jammu #sahajsabharwal12345 #DelhiPublicSchool #DpsJammu
#copyright #INDIA #TALENTPOETSahaj Sabharwal

the weather's amazing
my wallet's not empty
i have good company
i've never gone hungry
roof above my head
healthy and not dead


but where are you?

You are my undying a star
In a world full of death and destruction.
You are my everything
In a world where anything can be stolen.
You are my love
In a world where lust trumps over heart.
You are my life
In a world where there's nothing left for me to hold on to.