No thoughts to make you real, nails clenching on my notions, screaming without ears to hear, perception of memories put forward creation of scenarios torn, oh to stop, make myself physical, contained within today, to look once more, no reasons beyond context, you had to create a somber scene, unsteady emotions drive hasten movements, reasoning occurring in my racing mind, you sank deeper into my thoughts, fragmented comments make fuller picture, pensive minds adhere these.
When i was young My grandmother would always scold me For wearing shorts Or anything that's revealing my skin She told me, That there were demons who loves seeing girl's bareskin. I was scared when i was little But as i grew older I learned that the demons Were men with uncontrollable ****** urges That take advantage of any girl they see
I know not enough words to weave you a beautiful story. The extraordinary sceneries, the overflowing emotions; I can describe neither. And you'd put me in a great deal of trouble and frustration if you ever ask me to describe life, for any words I speak will never equal to this – this undescribable journey. I long to tell you all the little things I notice everyday, how beautiful the scene outside my two by three window today. You, who constantly complain about the daily stresses you experience; I want you to notice the things I see. Why are you so blind to the lilies outside your window, brushing against it in an attempt to say hello? What about the sound of rain, have you never stopped to listen? You told everyone that you hated life, but don't you understand that life loves you, despite every insult you've ever thrown at her? If you ever ask me about life, I'll tell you so many more things. I'll be life's spokesperson, since you seem to be deaf to her cries. Perhaps you'll understand if I try to say these things out loud. But alas, I've never got a chance to do so, because you've never asked about life. But I suppose that one should ask my name first before one could ask about things like life.
Colour me in your mind Am I vermillion red or prussian blue? Maybe a mix of the two? Or just a hue Of simple forest green No wait, aquamarine like an underwater scene Deep and darkness within Yet maybe you enjoy shades that are bright and they look so under the sunlight But true colours show only under the grayest skies to the most observant eyes
You only get to know a person truly when they are at their darkest moments. Oh, happy Holi from a Norman Gortsby ;)