After each harsh sunstroke, the breeze is always cold,
Blowing away all the burden that at one time you did hold.

The day before was vicious, but tomorrow is definitely a saint,
The wall of struggles seems very small, yet very less to paint.

Weeks can be ruthless, months may never be nice,
But the long decades of happiness will pay the whole price.

The well seems deep because of the small rope,
But it isn't more profound than our determined hope.

The beautiful hours await you, making every second very old,
After each harsh sunstroke, the breeze is always cold❤

Yes you can hate me with those superficial eyes of yours,
Whose looks change each instant and make me look immature.

Yes you can call me unfocused and distracted,
To show that on every serious scenario...how childishly I've acted.

Yes you can not grant me what I deserve,
Screaming and yelling as if I'm getting on your nerves.

Yes you must not listen to me as your words are more precious,
And live and rejoice peacefully with a behaviour so malicious.

And yet I won't hate you back as you possess the knowledge so pure,
But yes you can always hate me with those superficial eyes of yours!

Why is it that they would never listen?
Why is it that they won't believe?

Why does this immature behaviour always rolls out of their sleeves?

Complexities are present and they won't ever go away,
I'm just sick of this never ending discussion in which I never get a say!

They've known it, they know it, and they won't possibly ever forget,
That somewhere down the line I'm weak and on me they just can't bet!

And yet they won't understand as it has been in repetition,
The only thing that they perceive is the increasing competition.

What if I can't cope up with something I could not,
Can it judge my personality and criticize the skills that I've got?

But what's the point of saying all of this as they would never believe,
One day this discussion will end and I forever will leave!

Thinking about the past experiences, my mind goes numb,
As I could never rigidly decide what will I become...

Martial arts pulled me towards it, made me day and night rehearse it,

" I am sorry" were the three words if I wanted grades at school.

So I left it, kept it aside,
Eventually forgot the patterns of a fight.

And here today, a story I recite,
To give you a glimpse of my 15 years' ride.

Beginning of the second decade was all about Michael Jackson,
I excelled his moonwalk and it made me look handsome.

Got praised by many and became popular at school,
However very soon, I was pushed into the exam pool.

So I left it, kept it aside,
My hat and my glove were once my pride.

Just two years later, at me, a football was thrown,
As I couldn't join a club, learnt it on my own.

Dribbling around the cathedrals and towers,
Practiced each day for about 3-4 hours.

Although the academic pressure deflated my ball of dreams,
It's a lot more heartbreaking than it currently seems.

So I left it, kept it aside,
Kicked my aspirations away which bounced day and night.

Then music and poetry knocked my door,
At first I thought, I was getting myself bored.

But then I fell in love with them and I knew what I had to do,
I know both of them are related to me and it's nothing out of the blue.

So I didn't leave, didn't keep them aside,
Never told my skills to flee somewhere and hide.

Still, thinking about the past experiences, my mind goes numb,
But today I can rigidly decide what I want to become❤

Soluble like salt in water,
Temperature of sun that gets hotter and hotter.

A dead man who never comes back,
A 20 year old train with its last journey on the track.

The rusted strings of guitar which can't possibly be used,
The old man's life when he was a kid and all the fun that got him amused.

Decisions are like these things and can never be taken again,
If so would happen then infants would never turn into men.

These are the climatic conditions that change,
Unpredictable is their intensity and range.

For some, they're like the rain, it goes wherever sunshine is not,
For some they're like the breeze, it leaves every place which has started to become hot.

The stains on your shirt take less time to vanish,
As compared to the time that they take to replenish.

The train of feelings' interests is what they're in a hurry to catch,
Meanwhile their conscience ignores the delicate hearts that hatch.

Their activation and deactivation is a phenomenon that still seems strange,
As far as I know, feelings are the climatic conditions that change!

Not even a single day goes by,

When I don't think about what I could be,
When I take in a lot of fresh air and still can't breathe
When I'm so much occupied and still so free!

I ignore...to make it appear unseen,
But what about the ones who can always see,
I'm not rude so as to make anyone flee,
I'm a guy with complications created by thee!

If you wanna talk...and that also with me,
Oh my dear... it's gonna get creepy,
Cuz I'm the person with no one to be,
And still nicely trouble..... everybody!

I'm the segmented leaf of a tree,
The tree didn't want this...I agreed,
So let me be on my own as I am gentle and sweet,
Or come near and talk to me so that I can become mean!