Through a Rag Picker's Eyes.
I laugh at these miserable bunch of fools,
who claim to be humans,
they are just a bunch of tools,
I look at their world ,
see what they are doing,
The fruits of progress,
they so lecherously desire to eat
blinds them ,
makes them forget what progress truly is !
In the name of progress, everyday
they dig each other's graves,
marching one step closer,
towards the apocalypse.
They forget what a real human being;
Akira Kurosawa once said,
without clean air water and spacious shed,
A man is as good as dead.
They look at me ,
call me names,
jeer at me,
But I'm not mad ,
rather, I feel sorry for them ...
There is a difference between what you look,
And what you see...
Divergent in self
Inside and outside of me
I am not the same.
*One Body; One Soul*
#inside #CMAugChallenge writing prompts
Don't blame yourself for the mistakes you never did.
You are responsible only for your actions. If people drove into your life and left those dents, so you are not wrong.
No one hurt themselves. No one ruin their lives. No one make their own selves suicidal and regretful and unsuccessful.
We are humans damn it!
We are designed to think and work in our best interests. No one invites pain and agony and depression into their lives.
Life is yours, you can control it, but....
People mess it up for you.
They churn you and play with you. Leaving you scarred for life. They stand before you and point out the bruises which they gave you. They call it ugly, they call it unconventional a...
In a world full of glittery stars, I’d like to catch the one with the dimmest light.
It might not shine bright like others but at least it’ll glow like itself and no one else.
The one which needs more love, the one which needs more understanding and the one which has everything different than others.
What will I anyway get by owning something that everyone has? I’d rather nurture something that’ll grow within its own capacity to glow differently yet out-stand.
My friends think I'm so done.
For each of I am a different person.
I can't show them, but still it burns,
Can't take their staring ya.
My blood doesn't flow it runs,
Playing with skeletons for fun.
Breaking, jumping, they'll learn,
That I am not normal ya.
I'll peel off the stitches off my face.
Play around with ghosts at my base.
I just enjoy this, this rushing fear.
Normal is what I don't wanna hear.
Crazy, maybe I am mad,Probably
the only psycho Friend you'll have.
Don't bother to ask me, if I'm alone.
And ask me if something's wrong.
I don't dream, cause it is a killer
The only butterfly that still is
Sometimes all you need is a heart to heart conversation with your best friend and suddenly your life turns out to be pretty simple.
Friends are the family we choose for ourselves and i’m gonna be ever grateful for having few but really loving & supportive best friends.
Curtain rises. The show
Begins. Tied to the strings
All we made to move in.
Think we have free will,
We, think we are unique
What if I tell you it's what
They planned you to be.
Puppet master is, acting in
Disguise. Trying make you
Believe, you have eyes.
We ain't going nowhere
We are all still. What makes
You think you've your own will?
Curtain is falling now, the
Show's over. The fare is closing
Now, time to get sober
We see puppets here and there
Lying. Haunting is the reality
But, we are still trying.
Strings we can't break cause
Our will is bound.
No turning around possible
As this stage is round.
Puppets we are truly, isn't that so?
What makes you think you're
~My Unconventional Family~
Conversations in this household on any given night include and are certainly not limited to; murder by glucose injection, guests staying the night followed by howling and barking noises coming from the room they're staying in... Oh my! 👀
Far far away
There's a different night and day
And I wonder
If we would feel different there
If they wouldn't mean as much to us
If they couldn't hurt us
If they didn't hold that power.
I wonder if it would hurt less.
For the blue eyed girl I haven't met yet,
I was at the art supplies store this evening shopping for paints. After struggling and failing to find the particular colour I was looking for, I decided to walk up to the store staff and ask them where can I find the same. The staff, a young girl in her mid twenties, asked for a few more details about the shade I was looking for. This is the part I struggle the most at. I'm unable to recognize colours by their names as some of my counterparts can do so well.
So, I gave her this cheesy description-
'it's like the colour you see at the beach where it meets the ocean. Imagine I put a handful of sand in the clear blue ocean.'
'I don't quite get it...
There's nothing special to talk about how's my day been, i can tell you this that i spent the whole day talking to my long lost school friend which was quite exciting.
It's been great remembering all the stuff we used to do it's like a bond we shared that there was no gap of communication between our conversation if u know what I'm trying to say.
So readers take this in and believe that anything wonderful can happen anytime.
Forbidden love - Part Two
I stand in front of the mirror, while fixing my hidjab, my mind gets filled by thoughts about his little features. I think about the way we jokingly call each other darling and honey and smile.
I take a deep breath and put my hand on my heart. I feel such an intensity that I have to focus on my breathing. I speak out loud and say to myself;
"You can not let this happen. You may not feel this way"
A few moments later I see him standing with all the others and again I feel that intensity I felt earlier. I try to ignore it and walk towards my classmates
Usually I can focus on myself and the others but lately I can't seem to think about anything else but him
There's nothing more frightening than lying to someone who has the brains of a detective. I don't wish to lie but I had to. I've gone fed up of trying to convincing my uncle about switching my job. Nothing worked. I don't even like to get into arguments with him because his health is deteriorating. I didn't go college today. I never wanted him to know that I stayed home.
( At uncle's place during lunch break)
Him: How's that you came home for lunch five minutes early today?
Me: Hmm.. I left early. That's why. I mean I completed my work early.
Him: Why are you quiet today?
Me: Quiet? Who?
Me: No. I was actually thinking something.
THE SQUARE SHAPED SUN
I softly pushed the door. It made its usual felicitous creak as it swung open against the air. I lingered a moment before the door frame, settling on sudden thought of entering the room. After bit of a struggle with the thoughts, I entered. The silence in the room was more than I ever thought possible. My eyes moved across it. Everything was exactly on its place seeking the only human existence in their world of solitude. A study table, an old painting of a man sitting under a tree beneath overcasted weather, below the painting was a bed with soft mattress, on its left was the night stand with a book over it. Everything was still and cold. All I could hear was constant ...
We walked 2 steps together,
but you chose a different path...
Leaving me all alone
I know, I can never be your love,
nor can I be your friend,
If you ever need a companion,
Let me be the one to accompany you...
I will walk with you wherever your path leads....
Let me be a part of your journey,
Let me walk beside you always
I will comfort you at every step
Somewhere along the way, at a turn in your life,
you will need someone.....
someone to comfort you.....
someone to talk to......
I will be right there next to you....
I will always be close to you wherever you are,
Look around, you will find me smiling at you.
The Dead Among the Living
Behind the casket door,
A deep red mahogany gloss shine,
Embellished with silver details,
Lies the body of one,
All closed to the world.
But yet she breathes,
Slow and concentrated breaths,
To show there is still life,
Inside the cold, broken and dead host cell,
That is the girls’ body.
A body that was torn apart,
Beaten and bruised,
By those around her,
And put on display,
To show the artwork of others.
A dance told in segments.
Segments of body parts,
Intermissions of searches for air,
A dance of the dead,
Staged among the living.
A look at the delicate body,