"gloomy" poems
Your smile is the reason I get up every morning
Your smile is what keeps me going throughout the day
It's what let's me know you still care
It's that little Ray of sunshine I need on a gloomy day
The only thing that can bring me out of my dark place
Your smile is amazing
Aug 21, 2010
Aug 21, 2010 at 5:48 PM UTC
There will be gloomy days when
you will look back at your old self
and think about this one choice you made that
changed your life in many ways
You will think about the day you decided to leave
You left family and friends behind
hoping to find a better future on the other side
You were young and naïve
you were that quiet kid that
no one thought could ever leave
yet, on that September 6th 2013
holding hands with Fear and Hope
you boarded a plane that took you miles away
There will be gloomy days when
you will wonder why
on that day Fear didn’t pull you aside
and tell you that life
wasn’t going to be as bright on the other side
You will wonder why that quiet kid
had this strong need to leave
You will look back in sadness
and grieve the loss of those happy times you took for granted
You will be drinking the same coffee
mum used to make you on a Saturday morning
and you will be listening to those songs
dad used to play in the car on a Sunday afternoon
You will grieve what it feels like a loss
of those you have always loved
It’s on these days that you will feel alone the most
Inside your head it will be as dark as the sky
on a rainy winter afternoon
and your eyes will be as heavy as grey clouds
ready to let the rain pour down
It’s on these days that you will grieve the most
Though, they say there is always calm after a storm
and no matter how brief it can be
you will eventually find some peace
and it’s within this peace that
you will find the strength to remember that
not everything is as gloomy as it seems
It’s within this peace that
you will honour that quiet kid
who is no longer as quiet as they used to be
and it’s within this peace that
you will celebrate their new life as a fearless kid
Jul 9, 2018
Jul 9, 2018 at 4:54 AM UTC
Sunshine comes in many forms.
- - - - - -
That which comes up in the morning
and goes down at night.
And little girls who
are Grandma's De-light.
- - - - - -
She rises in the morning
sometimes cloudy,
sometimes bright,
but always Grandma's De-light.
- - - - - -
Sometimes she rains tears
torrential they may pour
but comforted by the voice
of the One who loves her so.
- - - - - -
Sometimes she shines bright
the warmth of hugs and smiles.
Love overflowing in the heart,
it's all Grandma's De-light.
- - - - - -
Love is forever and always
whether its stormy or bright.
Love covers all situations
For all is Grandma's De-light.
- - - - - -
Sunshine's Eyes and Smiles
Light up the world around her.
Creating more smiles in their eyes
when first they did find her
- - - - - -
When Grandma's day is gloomy
Sunshine arrives with much to say
with happy stories, hugs and smiles
to brighten up the cloudiest day.
- - - - - -
When Sunshine goes to bed
it usually can be said
Sunshine's eyes cease to gleam
when energy's gone, time to dream.
- - - - - -
Eyes close and all is well
in Sunshine Land I do tell.
Grandma's De-light in peaceful sleep
The day is over, it will keep.
- - - - - -
She is after all
Grandma's Sunshine.
11-01-2014 (c)
John Stevens
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 5:22 PM UTC
Build me a slow boat to Timbuktu via China
Heave down a fleecy cloud and let me float to Nirvana
Hunt me a unicorn and let me ride to the Enchanted Forest
Find me a giant eagle and let it lift me to Outer Mongolia East
'please don't leave me here amongst demons with human faces'
Show me a Church and I'll show you a hall full of Sinners
Point out a wife and I'll reveal a liar and a fake and none dimer
Call a Doctor and its a Monster who betrayed the Hippocratics
That Government Boss is a cruel heinous snake without ethics
'please don't leave me here amongst demons with human faces'
See that Preacher and see a spineless hypocrite back-stabber
That lover was nothing but a sick deranged false **** twister
My dear acquaintance a heartless corrupted shyster unhinged
A Newsagent full of pitiless, gloomy, vile, psychotic joy-suckers
'please don't leave me here amongst demons with human faces'
That friend of years a bloodsucking Judas who betrayed and stole
Uncles who rained terror with sadistic pleasures in parts unwhole
Show me nieces and find two-faced ******* with poisons in veins
Neighborhoods full of silent killers and Rapists of truthful genes
'please don't me leave here amongst demons with human faces'
A vicars' daughter wielding angst axes better than a viking
The pathetic Moors zombies tearing flesh on masters beholding
The dead-eyed Arabs salivating madly or at daggers drawn
Contemptible Men-kids with pin ****** used as King's pawns
'please don't leave me here amongst demons with human faces'
Build me a cottage in rolling green fields with blue skies
Find me a fair maiden with a true heart and warming smiles
Show me a place that holds fairness and justice real and dear
A world with humanity we're all sisters and brothers for care
'please don't leave me here amongst demons with human faces'
[email protected] August2018
Aug 9, 2018
Aug 9, 2018 at 11:44 PM UTC
i am sinking
further into the darkened depths that is my mind
my heart,
my lungs,
my mind,
collapse
i try shake this illness that
holds my existence captive,
a prisoner in my own mind
i long for the days where my breaths were sighs
of relief,
of happiness
i ache for the moments where
life was not a gloomy mess.
where the sun seeped in through the window
and everything felt okay
will i ever feel whole again?
will i ever rid of this disease?
Mar 27, 2017
Mar 27, 2017 at 2:07 PM UTC
it wasn’t chaotic.
it was calm and serene,
like the ocean.
the soft pitter patter
of the rain on the roof,
and the cool air it brought.
it was a sip
of freshly brewed coffee,
natural with no additives,
whatsoever.
the gut feeling
of knowing where home was.
and that is how
you came into my life.
the star that shines the brightest
amongst the pitch black sky.
it’s the white cloud that outshines
all the gray and gloomy ones.
the perfect fit of the last piece
to the unfinished puzzle.
it's the warm, fuzzy feeling
of getting into bed
early on a Friday night.
and that is how it was
when I started loving you.
it’s like a deeply cut wound,
one that’s inundating
with crimson colored blood,
having a tinge of maroon.
it induces pain
with every inbreathe
and exhalation.
it manages to have
the appearance of a scar,
yet it still feels so fresh
like a bruise.
and that is how it felt
when you left.
it was filled with haze
and suffocation.
the uncontrollable fast paced beat
of your heart.
Mona Lisa's enigmatic smile,
one that is hardly understood
by majority of the world.
a bite of dark chocolate,
bitter and sweet.
and this is my survival.
Jun 6, 2017
Jun 6, 2017 at 5:56 PM UTC
A single raindrop falls from the sky,
depressed in its loneliness as it descends.
It lands and drips down a grassy slope,
alone and forgotten.
A single raindrop falls from the sky.
It falls from dark clouds and gloomy air.
It brings nothing but sadness to the earth below
and desires only to be heard or seen.
A single raindrop falls from the sky,
felt only by a stranger.
It's wiped away, declared a nuisance,
and cast away from existence.
A single raindrop falls from the sky,
mistaken for a tear.
Thought to be from an angel of a lost age.
It merely stirs the dust.
A hundred raindrops fall from the sky,
all lonely but together.
They cause a splash and demand attention.
Still only felt by one.
A hundred raindrops fall from the sky,
unable to quench the earth's thirst.
They disappear, taken by the ground,
embraced for the last time.
A hundred raindrops fall from the sky.
Not a head turns to notice them.
They cry out loudly but cannot be heard,
vanishing as they land.
A thousand raindrops fall from the sky.
The clouds gather to watch the spectacle.
They grow darker as they bunch together,
warning those below of the coming.
A thousand raindrops fall from the sky
and tap people on the shoulder.
"Come watch us," they whisper before leaving.
Few people are left behind.
A thousand raindrops fall from the sky,
looking for an audience.
The people have left and taken their friends
to hide in the buildings they made.
A million raindrops fall from the sky,
and joyously, they sing.
They hit the ground, the cars, the roofs,
and make music for those in hiding.
A million raindrops fall from the sky.
They dance and cheer and smile.
The sun decides it wants to watch.
The light dances with raindrops for awhile.
A million raindrops fall from the sky,
accompanied by rays of gold.
They bring new color to the city of gray
and rejuvenate all of the old.
A gentle rain falls from the sky
and makes art upon the ground.
It quenches the earth's thirst and hums in our ears,
dancing to its own sound.
A gentle rain falls from the sky.
People watch with awe from behind glass.
Ignored by many, precious to captivated few.
They long for it to last.
A gentle rain falls from the sky
and gracefully sways in the breeze.
It brings forth calmness and a sense of peace.
It blesses the green fields and trees.
A gentle rain falls from the sky,
watched by a child with wonder.
It sends the breeze to lift the child
and brings them out from under.
A gentle rain falls from the sky
and splashes on window panes.
It plays with the child and hums sweet tunes
as it makes puddles in the traffic lanes.
A gentle rain falls from the sky
and ripples in the water.
A new world created, impossibly calm.
It makes the child an offer.
A gentle rain falls from the sky
and whispers in the child's ear.
"Wait for me. I will return.
I won't leave you alone here."
A gentle rain falls from the sky
and sings goodbye to the child.
The clouds dissipate as the sun takes over.
The departing rain simply smiles.
A million raindrops fall from the sky,
murmuring farewells and goodbyes.
Each gives the child a tender hug
as the color returns to the skies.
A thousand raindrops fall from the sky,
then a hundred, then one.
The single raindrop kisses the child
standing alone in the sun.
No longer do raindrops fall from the sky,
but a child waits for them.
To dance and sing and draw and play,
with the gentle rain again.
Aug 19, 2019
Aug 19, 2019 at 4:07 PM UTC
The house was haunted
The family fled
They couldn't find the priest
So they got me instead.
I read aloud my poems
Full of sorrow and pain,
About dreary things
And nearly going insane.
"My Gawd", the ghosts cried
" This is fierce gloomy stuff,
I thought we were bad
But this, Enough! Enough! "
Well they wailed and they shrieked
And they wailed some more
Then holding their ears
They ran out the door.
Even ghosts they desert me I thought
After they'd gone
They'd never even heard of a sorrow
so deep
Or a pain as sharp as mine.
I sat there all alone in the silent house
With not a whisper, no! not a mouse
When all of a sudden there came
something strange
A little sound like that of slow trickling
water.
"Have you something to say to me
House", I asked
"Before I up and leave you forever",
The little sound, it stopped all at once
and looked up
As if very surprised at having been
discovered.
I rose to leave
But quickly turned back amazed
When from down & out of the
chimney
Crept this little voice so slight & warm
& tender.
" Forgive me Sir", it said,
"But I could contain myself no longer,
That little sound you hear, the tiny
trickle
Is but the teardrops from my eyes
dripping
Such a pain and sorrow as yours
I never heard before
Those anguish drenched words
They seeped through my walls right
into my heart
They pierced me deeply,
Yea, they pretty near tore me apart,
I'll remember you Sir when you're
gone
I don't think I could ever forget you".
I listened and was sorely moved
"Thank you House ", I said, "thank
you, thank you kindly"
And turning again at the front door
"Goodbye House, look after those
who'll live here, won't you".
Outside the birds, they were singing
And up in the sky, the sun
The sun, it was shining.
Mar 30, 2018
Mar 30, 2018 at 7:10 PM UTC
you must rise above
the gloomy clouds
covering the mountaintop
otherwise, how will you
ever see the brightness?
11k
**Tell no one else, only the wise
For the crowd will sneer at one
I wish to praise what is fully alive,
What longs to flame toward death.
When the calm enfolds the love-nights
That created you, where you have created
A feeling from the Unknown steals over you
While the tranquil candle burns.
You remain no longer caught
In the peneumbral gloom
You are stirred and new, you desire
To soar to higher creativity.
No distance makes you ambivalent.
You come on wings, enchanted
In such hunger for light, you
Become the butterfly burnt to nothing.
So long as you have not lived this:
To die is to become new,
You remain a gloomy guest
On the dark earth.**
Oct 4, 2013
Oct 4, 2013 at 11:42 PM UTC
The flame in my flesh burns tor like
Above conventions of average humanity,
Propelled to hatred of their opposite
By the pristine charm in the streaks of culture,
Their Florence comes from the glory of orthodoxities
In the time long fibres of religious pockets,
Islam, Christian, Hinduism and all that steadily
And firmly in piety aver perfection of Godliness,
Forgetting the flame of same *** with oral spice
In the God made flesh of the dear lesbian daughter,
Spell binding the equivalent in blossoms of the gay,
Provoking hatred from the threatened heterosexists,
But the oral *** of a lesbian is an apex of human pleasure
Surpassing all on earth and in heaven, as no human barricade
Of whatsoever caliber will cull lesbian’s feelings
From the glorious power in the genitals on kiss of lips,
As the tongue of the chic wag from side to other
Touching fountains of ****** glory in cement of sameness
Throwing threats of law and black order to dustbins
And trash yards of anachronisms as the power of LGBT
Engulfs the young world into in its protégé,
Shamelessly tethered on the sensual tentacles
Of maximum gusto in the ***** of oral *** with a dear ‘less’
In tune with all rhythms of the times
Remaining strange to the conservatives,
Ever seeking pleasure from where pain hails
Living gloomy life on a brink of melancholia,
Worry not lesbian daughter you are powerful,
In one away or so, rise up and walk tall
You have power in your oral ***
Oral *** Oral *** Oral *** of a lesbian!
Jul 11, 2014
Jul 11, 2014 at 4:43 AM UTC
There you are again,
Standing under the rain.
Your mind filled with thoughts
That cannot be explained.
A wave of emotions flow through you,
Sadness, happiness, anger, regret.
In pain because you confessed
The things that should've remained unsaid.
Unsure how much time has passed,
As you stare blankly at the gloomy sky.
Recalling the memories you've had together,
Knowing they're precious and unlike any other.
You start to take a single step,
As you plan your next move.
Because now you have to accept the truth,
That things won't go back to the way they used to.
Apr 4, 2017
Apr 4, 2017 at 2:53 PM UTC
The vampire sings
Such a lovely song
I hate to see the coming dawn
My heart still feels the ting
The darkness no longer seems gloomy
On the night the vampire sings
Sep 25, 2015
Sep 25, 2015 at 11:25 AM UTC
sometimes you're the sun on a bright and sunny day
and sometimes you're a raincloud on a gloomy day
but nonetheless they are both needed for flowers to grow
under your feet
I've seen the worst of your thunderstorms
and the best of your radiant days where you shine the brightest
and I choose both
because I love you nonetheless
and I will be the rainbow after your storm
and the stars that will keep you company at night
Aug 1, 2014
Aug 1, 2014 at 1:15 AM UTC
O traveler, why lookest thou straight
on the road
grave and speculative,
Depriving your eyes such a beatific sight,
See the angelic form standeth behind
the window curtain,
Come, wait, sit beside me, it’s worth waiting,
We both will sing in praise of her
And linger until she uncurtains the curtain.
You say it’s purposeless
Why argue?
Isn’t it the reason our maker gives us eyes?
Isn’t it the purpose of our mind’s evolution
to sing and hail the beauty; at least of her.
You won’t believe my word? Impertinence!
You will be blinded by her shadow
spare her presence; “stare not for long”,
What? You say it exaggeration…
Bon Dieu!
If beauty is not exaggerated
where lies its charm.
Look! her shadow moving, she is
growing impatient as if getting
late to meet her lover.
Yes, she wins heart in a look
and crushes it in a blink and wins again
by smile.
Monarch sleeps in her bed
Life in right, Death in left hand; she possesses,
Judiciary in closet
And warriors in purse.
Countries bow, world kneel, universe supplicate
before her.
Stop! Where thou going?
Pardon these adynatons,
I’m drunk in her beauty.
Let us sing then, I’ll lead, you follow
Flowers wilting in chilled air,
Waiting clouds to part
To have a look fair,
Of moon…
Do see the restlessness in that room?
I can sense her ***** heaving, repressed
sighs and her fingers twisting, twirling
in exasperation,
It must be a lover
who invented the song, isn’t it?
A gloomy firefly in this starless sky
Searching his lover
Who has lost the light,
Wait not moon, rise, help him
In his plight…
Look! look! The curtain is drawn
There she, my sovereign,
don’t mistake her eyes for stars.
Have a profound look, but not too long;
this witnesses only fortunate.
What? you lost your vision-
But I warned you earlier.
Now, who’ll testify I saw her?
Oct 4, 2018
Oct 4, 2018 at 7:43 PM UTC
Never mind the time of spring,
From which love comes a common thing,
Love comes rare as life may
Midwinter or a gloomy day
To life, love, happiness can only bring!
To live and love, what a beautiful thing!
Midst the solitude in which we born and die
—Love greets our lonely life, passing by
Jun 19, 2017
Jun 19, 2017 at 9:34 PM UTC
#teamara
As in the nub of the remains of crayola crayon that’s been used to color in so many smiling cartoon suns on a piece of paper-
Her favorite color is yellow.
And I don’t mean a wimpy *** pastel yellow or sometimes a pale yellow
I mean her favorite color is bright *** yellow.
Like Pikachu yellow.
Like she’s almost nineteen but she’s still willing to play Gameboy Pokemon yellow.
There’s something innocent yet corny kind of yellow about her.
She’s beautiful like yellow jirasol petals
She’s intricate as yellow thread woven in a Rasta Dom
She’s yellow like gold and Africa
She’s sweet like pineapples and delicate like daffodils
I still don’t know why her favorite color is yellow
Maybe it has to do with her fascination of Asian men…
I mean! ...with the continent of Asia
She thinks she’s more like pink Japanese cherry blossom trees in the summer
But I know she’s truly yellow petals on Paolo Verde trees blowing in the wind spreading around Tucson
A metaphor for her love
She’s yellow like the color in the middle of my pride rainbow- She supports me
She’s yellow like the big painted sun at the hospital with a big grin
I wonder why nobody smiles at hospitals
The place where life is easily given as taken
Where we are reminded that our health is sometimes taken for granted
Other than that great big yellow sun
She is the only that radiates yellow and smiles
In waiting rooms, she seems like she’s the calmest
Even though she’s the only one going through surgery
She’s so beautiful on the inside her body can’t even take it
She doesn’t deserve scions or scalpels to even be considered touching her bronze skin
I wish instead they would strip down the color yellow from my life
And give it to her to make her smile so bright that even word “cancer” would cease to exist
But still. Even through pain and hardships
She still smiles. Not only is she yellow when she’s happy
She tends to radiate yellow even when she’s gloomy
When I’m upset, her aura has way of rubbing off on mine
And I get insight to why her favorite color is yellow
*** she’s the kind of yellow that represents strength
She’s yellow like tall forts made from gold bars
She’s yellow like flames that roll of her tongue when she spits fire
She’s yellow like a crayola-crayon… except she can’t be broken
From her, I’m learning
That even when you’re hurting
You can still shine bright like your favorite color.
Dec 3, 2012
Dec 3, 2012 at 3:55 PM UTC
The fault of our reality is not written in our stars
And it will not dance across unfavorable constellations,
Or dissolve into inconsolable fragments.
The fault, my love, is not written in our stars.
It is written in ourselves.
But how fortunate would it be?
To cast the providence of our unlucky affairs
Into the gloomy twilight,
Where the sky is so unilluminated
That we could close our restful eyes
And fathom a world where it does not exist?
But the fault, my love, is not written in our stars.
It is written in ourselves.
We are heavily folded sheets of stationary:
A collection of utterances
Bound into melancholy novels
By our mangled hearts,
And though spoken words
Still fall onto my turning pages
As tears do fall from my reddened cheeks,
I have yet to forget
The chapter you have left unwritten,
Because an unwritten chapter is one to be adorned:
It cannot end
For it does not exist.
And so we fumble through an amorous affliction,
Fabricated into a bittersweet infinity.
And at midnight,
When my restless fingers
***** the empty air for you,
And the reality of our desolate fault
Seeps into my hands,
I wish you were here.
But the fault, my love, is not written in our stars.
It is written in ourselves.
j.s.
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 3:28 AM UTC
I was as free and brave as a dragon when the sun rose
I was as dark as the starless night when the wind blew
I was consumed by wanderlust
Now it is only emptiness
Blurred patches, sunless ways, gloomy days
Everything is out of my league
Everything is invincible
Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 12:19 AM UTC
Vines crawling
on the old mottled wall
fog bypassing
the fence
enveloping the entire
chalet
the mystic sky over the castle
a lightning awakening
the gloomy valley
ghosts and goblins floating
around
extinguishing white candles
a witch with a broom
the silver haired wizard in a black hat
standing in the darkness of spells
the enchanted princess sleeping
in the black chalet
prince charming leading a team of
knights
sinister roses blooming quietly
spitting murky fog
tongues of flames light up the dark tunnel
the prince kills the bloodthirsty bats witches and
a clan of phantoms
the prince kisses to wake the princess who’s been asleep
for a millenium.
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 12:46 PM UTC
Every friend when meets,
Seems an angel sent to us,
By the god from his providence,
But when departs after fulfilling,
His ends selfish and cunning,
All incidents of past moving.
In sky of our inner gloomy world,
Making us cry and buzzing sad,
Echo of pain within ending world.
Jun 14, 2025
Jun 14, 2025 at 5:09 AM UTC
a dark place,
dingy and cobwebbed:
the forlorn basement
below an unfinished house;
there is no hope
of an HGTV house-flip
or a makeover
or the sort of boring/heartwarming story
where some nice white family
—or conveniently diverse—
sets up shop,
smash-cuts through a renovation
and gets their dream home.
no,
the house will remain gloomy,
this basement filled with emptiness;
no one desires
to come through the door,
no one except the tweakers
and the vagabonds
and the runaways,
the ****** and the pimps,
the celebrities and psychiatrists,
the demons and the ghosts,
the preachers and their seething
congregations of judgmental ******
that live across the street,
and the ***** teenagers
hunting for a place to try out ***
no cleaning crew
or maid service
or organize-your-life guru
or even the most experienced
of all the world’s janitors
could enter this house and clean it
or beautify this basement
or disenfranchise the squatters within;
the neighbors just try
and demolish it
every chance they get,
to rid their sparkling, spotless community
of this disgusting eyesore.
Dec 5, 2018
Dec 5, 2018 at 10:15 AM UTC
A silhouette of some kind
That appeared and vanished
At the end of what seemed a horizon
A silhouette of a creature
That left behind the day
And just so simply vanished…
With a sigh I defy
The fact of what I saw
And had written it away as a memory
A memory that I had made to be as a figment of my imagination that I had formed in this gloomy day..
And with a chuckle I cleared my throat
And moved on…
But I couldn't sleep
For that night
The moon so lavishly
Without a care
As though without a thought
Stood
Shimmering in the sky beautifully
Instantly revealing that what I had seen this morn..
And with a feeling
That seemed as though this night would never end
I walk up and ask
That if not impossible
Can you tell me who you are?
I wonder A beast, a spirit, a demon, an angel, a monster….
You do not speak
And I start to dream
And for some reason… with every minute that I spend
Staring at you
I begin to fall in love..
Oh god.. help me..
For it seems that
I have once again begun to feel…
And as I try to avoid
And as I try to move
It seems that
I cannot get myself to keep away..
From connecting myself to you…
In a way that will never break away..
Oh how a bitter day has made its way
For a simple silhouette now soaked and stripped
Completely transparent with nothing in its way
A silhouette of black and white
Completely stripped down
As though wishing to die
And as the day goes by
You seem slightly in sight
I try to move on and walk away
But wherever I go
I seem to find you somewhere..
And unfavorably
I gaze at this
Lilac horizon
When all of a sudden
..What happened?
The clouds seem to have disappeared
And you are no nowhere in sight
Yet under a cloudless sky falls a downpour
Indefinitely in sight
Confirming I hadn't just gone blind..
It seems that I have just realized
That I had fallen in love with something otherworldly
I fell in love much more that I should have..
And now that you aren't in sight
I am lost Without a path to walk
I don’t know what to do
But why Even though we didn't speak
Even though we would just meet
Why does your absence
Create such a transparency within me…
And so I whisper good-bye, even if just for myself
Thinking that you were not but a figment of my imagination all this while
A tear drops As I take a step forward
A miserable and helpless man I was
What a miserable and helpless man I am…..
I fell in love with something unknown
I fell in love more gently that I thought
Such a tasteless romance..
To fall in love with something I do not know
To fall in love with something I do not understand
And as the hours go by
I begin to cry
I begin to cry
I request for a prayer
I request for a wish
"Give her a soul
Give her a body
Tell me she was real
TELL ME SHE WAS REAL ….please”
A silhouette so dark
A silhouette silent
Invisible and dark
As though never existent
Flying away
Flying away
And without knowing what you are
It seems I had completely fallen in love
A love so gentle…
A love so tasteless…
I fell in love with nothing but a presence
Of something I didn't know
Of something I didn't understand.
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 12:12 PM UTC
A tale of many cities confined within
Deep dark secrets stacked in.
Lies, the world presume as sins,
That’s how the story of ‘The Black Box’ begins.
Cramped amid the four gloomy walls,
‘The Black Box’ is what he calls.
Looking to unscramble pieces at the bottom,
He rolled up his sleeves to the problem.
Not knowing, this can put him in a ditch,
And ‘The Black Box’ can act like a *****
He went on in the search for a prize,
Unaware of this forthcoming surprise.
He knew, many have tried to look inside,
To find a package of perfection in the hide
Disappointed to see the shattered glasses,
They closed the box to put it with a stack of more boxes.
Still, he preferred to move ahead,
In spite of knowing he will lose his head.
The minute he thought he was nearer to precision,
A way distant he was from the actual incision.
The time will come, when he will have his threshold,
Sooner or later, he will have to fold.
After all, no one can alter the history,
No matter what! ‘The Black Box’ will remain a mystery.
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 11:23 AM UTC
What is this feeling in my chest?
It's like a thousand fireworks going off at once,
Mending the shattered parts and rejuvenating the rest,
Making me more alive than ever.
What are all these new colors I see?
They make the world so much brighter,
Kissing life into the dark places and thoughts
Making me feel lighter.
Why do I feel this jealousy?
When he looks at another,
Darkening the clouds and making things once again gloomy,
Making my blood seem to boil.
What is wrong with me?
Thinking thoughts such as these,
Twisting reality making me wish I was normal and free,
Making me drunk on this sudden highlightation of life.
They say I have a crush,
But really I'm a million miles away,
Hoping in a rush,
That it is alive on both sides instead of just one.
Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 8:55 PM UTC