1. I wrote this poem somewhat between December 2014 and May 2015 because I was depressed and feeling very low when I was alone as no one supported my decision to take a year off to prepare for medical entrance examination. For some reasons, the reasons I already shared in my post entitled "My Story", it didn't work, and this emerged:
I could never let it go
even if it bleeds.
The noises around me
are adding to it.
The speaker is my blood
and the lady doesn't care
Even if the breath freezes,
the triumphs don't come anymore.
The mercy of the boy
lies before the kings and the queens
but all they care is comfort;
the sacrifice doesn't make sense to them.
The winter is coming,
And it might be too late now!
2. I have always believed that love can heal anything. The kiss on your wounds and the look they give you while kissing it heals it for me. The lips on lips is the most beautiful feeling, the bliss, the exuberance, the special in the ordinary and feeling of being caught up in the halo of the other. I wrote it as an ode to someone I adore and like, yeah maybe love, but the feeling was overwhelming. Here it is:
I resisted the beginning of us,
In the dark when you lay your hands upon me.
In the midst of someone's phone call,
The things streamed up our needs.
The touch? Was it for a different name that you spoke?
But dear, why are you hiding?
I know the hands, you couldn't keep off me
were saying it all so loud.
In denial, I lost that chance,
To be touched by the beautiful kiss.
"I didn't do anything," I thanked,
But soon enough, the regret crept.
Then, the dark faded to make you mock me.
But, I saw that fear in your eyes.
You were young, but I was too,
Blames are not that good.
Hands and touch, teeth and tongue
The hands on the back, and the hands on the front
The lips on the mouth, the lips on the neck,
Just yours, I will always expect!
3. I have felt that in my life, I have always hid my true being. But I have also known that people have known who I was, or what was I trying to hide? Still, the bliss of being free to not hide anything is a blessing, altogether. This came out when I was feeling trapped:
To stay with trend, I filtered it
Yet I stood still, not filtered
I tried to change, modify
Tried to again crawl or cry
But still far in queue to be altered
I know, and I mean the words
Yet I was unnoticed
I spoke, I shouted the truth
Still, I am a liar, who ain't got noble motifs
I was silenced, the truth sealed
Yet I prayed, I begged
I tried to love, still I was a sinner
I tried to do, but I was chained
I know the dark, or its illusion, but
Good died at the hands of my demon!
If you liked these poems, please vote for the chapter, and also read other chapters as well. And also, tell me what you didn't like. And what interpretations you have for these poems.
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Stories from A Troubled Boy
Non-Fiction..and I was different. "He is weird," said my seniors, tone redolent with mockery. And nicknames began. I have now lost count of the names. There are many, and it reached my home. My single mother was worried about who I was going to be. Though...
