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Megha Thakur Aug 2020
For me, writing is
Expressing anything and everything in my own way....
With my heart and soul....
Without any manipulation....
Like the sun came up every morning with a new energy and his ray....
-Megha Thakur
Megha Thakur Jun 2020
The most beautiful thing about life is,
That life itself is a lie.
That vanishes,
When death arrives.
But still gives you,
Reasons to smile.
-Megha Thakur
Megha Thakur Jun 2020
I can't explain whatever I feel,
It's just that I really want to heal.

There is nothing to hide,
All I want is to get rid of this roller coaster ride.

Where it is hard to survive,
There I am who really want to feel alive.

The one who is looking happy outside,
You won't know they might be dying inside.

If you have nothing for me to teach,
Then darling I really don't need you to preach.

The hardest part of being an adult,
Is that you always need validation which you get from your result.

It's very easy to complain,
What really hard is to explain the pain.

You don't need to apologize,
What you really need is to be wise.

And there we are telling a story in brief,
And a heart full of grief.

If one can ever make you feel divine,
Believe me the pleasure all be mine.
-Megha Thakur
Eʁʁoʁ May 2020
Your jurisdiction ends over my veil
You are nobody to rule on my zeal

This limited sovereignty is mine
Where I am free to cry or peal

Don't let your dubiety ask me
If I am leal to your creel.
G A Lopez Apr 2020

Wherever you are,
I hope you're doing great
I hope I'm still your favorite
But things have changed.
Our dreams are shattered
Know that I will be better
Our memories?
They'll stick the same
Haunting down memory lane.

Lice H-P Dec 2016
The Purple *****

Did you know I’m in a band called the Purple *****?
We’ve quite the cult following in my living room.
I am the talent, but sometimes Divvy Dan
takes a break from the scrounge
to be my wreckhead Rent-a-Bez
tambourine stooge.
There’s no point in a ticket, we are too impromptu;
at loco o’ clock I just put on a show.
Can’t go on a tour, too raw for the rubes.
Can’t cut a record, too avant-garde for the cubes.
We’re not about the music, it’s purely the *****.
Acoustic nogoodniks, grot-rock goons
with dregs in our cries, embers in our croons,
ignored by the neighbours who know it’s dole-day afternoon,
when the ***** play to forget they are doomed.

You won’t have heard of a band called the Purple *****
- the singer’s a ******* loser, tambourineman looks like
he's on shrooms.
I’m the talisman, but sometimes Divvy Dan
never takes a break  from the tam,
lost in vague remembered woods
of sniffing glues enthused.
We’ve already trashed our lives, don’t need hotelrooms.
At lobo o’ clock howl do you do
is what my greeters growl at my muse,
which is the watching blue wolf of lost youth.
When you got them borderline underclass steppenwulf blues,
the Black Dog is but a picnic pooch.
Bow-hoo-hoo-wow, may the mirth of Mozart infuse
my yelps of yearning and yowls
that we were born lambs and will die tramps we two.
The ***** have a jam to forget for a time
that monkey see, monkey consume.

We love you, goodnight, we have been the Purple *****.
We are even ******* than the ****** Beatles.
I’m tambourine man too, sometimes Dan
takes a break from the tam,
cryin’ over my childhood nylon untuned,
ballads for blacktoothed prostitutes.
And my love-life is as rock ‘n’ roll
as a lecture on medieval looms,
but we’re still too rock ‘n’ roll to be found on your Youtubes
- we’ve never left the living room, we’ve kept to our roots.
Sisters of mercy lie sing we dead boys of truth,
who are honestly really rock ‘n’ roll, do you want some proof?
Well, the other day I let Danny’s dog lick my open wounds.
We haven’t got an ad in the back of the Boogaloo News,
what self-respecting young dude wants to be a ****?
Flying Dutchmen don’t rearrange deckchairs,
we need no road crew,
but all you sober truth troubadours too troubled to troube,
Danny’s damnbourine also tolls for you.
Coz, brother, that white dole-monkey
keeps time with the devil’s own soul-hungry grooves.
But then again I’ve had a few.
We’ve been the house band since time and tenancy began,
we’ve spent our lives on the road that’s skewed.
You’d think we’d rock more having so much nothing to lose,
but the Purple ***** play because all hope is pooped.

the band split. Now Dan bangs the tam
for the Stolen Runes.
And I joined a ***** tribute band
called the Banned Tribunes.
Air guitar never goes out of tune.
Rock 'n' roll.

— The End —