This classroom was full at the beginning of the semester
And it didn't happen all at once
One by one students not understanding
One by one failing tests
Realizing they won't make it
And don't get me wrong
I might not too
But at least I'm still here trying

We were sailing to eternity
When you turn to tell me
There’s a hole in the hull...
(“I didn’t mean to, honestly,”
You plead).
our ship is flooding quickly
And the reel is struggling
To maintain stability.

S.O.S.
Save me
From this feeling,
I’m drowning.

I think of you in the running showers.
I think of you in the scent of flowers.
I think of you when I am asleep.
I think of you in the memories I keep.

I think of you when I am low and high.
I think of you when I fail and try.
I think of you in summer and snow
I think of you in dark and glow.

I think of you in wrong and right.
I think of you in black and white.
I think of you in scars and screams.
I think of you in hopes and dreams.

-Paras Bajaj #PoetrybyParas
Instagram : @mr.parasbajaj

The rising tide brings peace
Healing brokenness in this place
Sweeps and swirls and doesn’t cease
There in the depths of His grace
Holding back just on the verge
My wounds are only kissed
No fears within submerge
In merely strumming mist
Long drenched by anxiety
But completely parched beneath
My failing shelter of piety
Like a fearful sword in its sheath
Now I’m discontent just to be
Held in such a mighty hand
Longing with pride to use me
But immobile at His command
Yet grace crashes at the rubble
Each rock was a feeble attempt
To build above my trouble
No carpenter to preempt
The cross a simple design
Has stood throughout the ages
So all this mess I will resign
To redeeming force that rages
Though this awesome sea I dread
It will overcome my doubt
If by tattered wood I’m led
Until life as loss I count
I’m standing in the middle
And my strength is growing
Beyond this frame so little
Here’s where the power’s flowing
Now the risen tide of peace
Rolling calmly over my face
Sweeps, swirls and will never cease
Here in the ocean of His grace

Only a weak man would intrude
                    on virtues of another.
For a strong man knows that within him
                 is the virtues of a woman's birth.  

And with out them, he would be nothing.
            Those that intrude on the innocence,  
         have a weakness not of man
but of value and are neither of morality or humanity.

But the sinking ventures of humanities folly.
                For all of creations bindings are
                                but a creation of before.

And even those that are  pure some are always
                              damaged to the point of sorrow.
Never guise all under one brush,  
   because each is a different stroke.

And some are just not meant to be allowed
                                                   to paint a canvass.
          let alone a memory upon another's ever
                                                changing innocence.

I wonder which bird
was the First to
step off its perch
enough times to Fly

Or were all birds born that way?
Then what is the average number
of times each one fell until their
wings could carry them High?

Definitely not the penguins or the dodos
But I know that anyone can try.