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hannah Apr 2018
Nobody showed me how to love in school
I never learned the definition
I never had vocab test on it
Never read a chapter in those stupid textbooks on it
Never watched a bill nye video on it
So how was I supposed to know when you said I love you You were lying
H Phone Mar 2018
Walking under the street lights
I’m losing the will to fight
Head cast upward, I sighed
To the gaping maw of this oppressive night
I reflect on a day that has no reflection
My mirror has turned into a black cloth
Absence of light
Absence of fight
Absence of
Me
Because I lost myself to today
And the day before that
And the day before that
And the day before that
Can someone please ******* find me!?

Because I’ve been listening to this voice
Mindless jumbles of letters and noise
Words materialize and disappear
And all I can ******* hear
Is give up
Give up
Give up
GIVE UP
And I’m sick of it!
I want to hear someone tell me it’s alright
I want someone to encourage me to take flight
And yet here I stand tonight,
Alone with no one by my side
No one except this snarky ****
Thinks he’s smart
Striking me where it hurts
Tearing me apart

First your studies that you’re failing
When’s the last time you opened a book?
You’ve been playing a lot of games, friend
And even that, from you, I took
What? You’re mad you don’t enjoy them anymore?
Wasn’t adversity what you always wanted?
A challenge
But now it’s too much?
Jeez, lighten up and enjoy it, it’s fine
I’m sure you’ll ******* get him next time
Loser

How about that job?
How’s that been going down?
What’s the matter, little fella?
What’s up with that frown?
A one way ticket to adult land
Only thing left to do is drive a car
Now you wish you had it in you to learn
So that you could drive far
Away
From the sickening disappointment that you are
You have exactly as much drive
as you’re doing in your life
Cook a comfort meal and wash the tears out of your clothes
Oh wait, nevermind, ask your mom to help you with that

Not mad yet?
Then lemme strike you where I know it’ll sting
Some of your closest friends
A plea of death, they sing
“I’ll be there for you.”
“You can trust me with anything.”
You can’t handle this for ****!
You say this worthless crap
Because deep inside you can’t wrap
Your head around the fact that there’s nothing you can do
Because everything you say will make it worse
You’ll get pity thanks at most
“At least I tried”,
it sounds
Until someone dies
And it’ll haunt you till the end of times
If you can even still feel anything at ******* all
You’ll probably just forgive and forget
It’s what you do best
Give it a week and you won’t remember them anymore
Befitting of a ******* *******, like you

And then there’s this worthless poem
That you’re putting on the paper
I know what you’re trying to do, friend
“Last time went so well.”
“Those words, I really felt!”
You’re trying to get mad again, aren’t you?
How’s that been working out, boo?
Have my words been able to wound
Or are you just getting frustrated over your
complete inability to emote
When’s the last time you cried?
When’s the last time you got mad?
When’s the last time you felt?
Hell
This ain’t one of those times,
I know my stuff
Just ******* stop trying
And give up.
My day hasn't gone particularly well...
You hide behind
knowledge like
a shield you

feel stronger
when you know
the answers,

when you know
the answers,
when you know.
Autumn 2016.
Àŧùl Feb 2017
Never failed
Neither at the studies
Nor at crushing his feelings.
My HP Poem #1422
©Atul Kaushal
I studied that face
For as long as I could remember
My first semester
I should have got an F in that class
Because I could not comprehend
What I learned
I ended first semester with a bad attitude
About that subject
I could not understand
The paradox that was shown

How could someone
Be so mean
And so nice
So harsh
So judgemental
And so kind
And thoughtful?

Second semester started
I decided to start out
Un-biased
I would analyze everything
But not let it affect me personally

As I studied
Constantly
Even away I was still thinking
And now I think I understand
You.

I know that you are proud
Of the things your father does
I know you are not knowledgeable
In most worldly things
And you’re alright with that
You hate being teased
But it's so easy to
You are quick to judge
Yet you reprimand others for it
You like arguing pointless things
You like being right
You stand up for those you care about
Your face turns so red
When embarrassed
You aren’t as rude
When you’re around people
You don’t want to impress
You’re funny in a weird way
When you laugh
I always think of a gurgling river
Or an exploding geyser
You do cute things when you think no one
Is watching
I could go on
And on about the virtues
And the imperfections
That are you

But after this semester is over
I think I got an  A+ in this class
And I have learned so much from you
This isn’t about a crush
A teenager love
This is me
Finally understanding
Someone who has always been around me
Someone that has always confused me
That now makes me laugh
Whenever I realize
What he’s doing
Or trying to
yeah... that was long if you even made it to the bottom... good job!
Àŧùl Jan 2016
I have been reading genetics,
Even as a part of my course,
Apart from my dear hobby.

I have got this scientific temper,
Of course I got it all genetically,
From both mommy 'nd daddy.

Genetics define my autosomes,
Even my other chromosomes,
Which gave me my gender.

I am an Aryan-Dravidian born,
With a fantastic genetic base,
Variation is a genetic boon.

My father tells me to marry farther,
Continuing the ancient tradition,
A tradition that imparts finesse.
My great-great grandfather married a Sindhi lady.
My great grandfather married a Gujarati lady.
My grandfather married a Punjabi lady.
My father married a Kannada lady.

I guess that I should marry someone not from this planet!!!

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!

Just kidding, I don't actually know who I would actually marry if I ever marry at all - love has always disappointed me.

My HP Poem #962
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Jul 2015
I want to just confess,
Not creating a mess,
I love to see her work,
Not some sweaty one,
But right when she studies.

The angel studies dedicatedly,
And I am proud to help her,
Not that she can't do without me,
The tulip is intelligent enough,
But I want to be the dew drops on her.
My HP Poem #894
©Atul Kaushal
My friends
Write of lovers they miss
Everyday.
I don't.
I write
Of a knight in shining armor
Who has
So peacefully rescued me
From
Terrifying,
Fire-breathing,
All-nighters.
It pains me
That in these next few days
Away from his embrace
I am left
Staring at his weaponry:
Hot dog pillows
Duvets
Comforters.
With them,
He's won many battles.
But now I'm back here,
Locked up in this tower of
Unfinished requirements.
The essays
Have destroyed the stairwell.
Lab reports
Have blocked up my doors
And he left me,
Sleep left me
A damsel in distress
With caffeine and homework
Running in my bloodstream.
I peek out of my window,
Stare at the ground below,
Still not a sign of Sleep anywhere.
My friends
Write of lovers they miss
Everyday.
I don't.
I write of one I miss
Every night.
What has hell week done to my poetry?
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