Do you still call me a house?


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Do you still call me a house ? 

I sure resemble like one.

I have the foundation and I have the shape.

I surely stand up strong and straight.

Yet, something is still missing.

Is it the roof ?

Oh yes, its destroyed.

Is it the walls ?

Indeed, they are hollow.

How about the windows ?

Phew! are you kidding me!

Each day I am scorched by the sun,

Some days I am drenched by the rain.

And on some, the wind seems to be harsh.

But, every day I am overwhelmed by my best buddy.

My pain.

My pain, to stand there just alone.

My pain, of living a purposeless life.

My pain, to not be able to shelter anyone.

My pain, to never give anyone a wee bit of happiness.

Yet, I have to stand.

I really don’t know why.

Maybe, I was destined to.

Maybe, I am forced to.

But, do I want to ?

I don’t know. 

Nevertheless, I am still a house.

I shall stand.

In a hope that someone would build those walls.

In a hope that my roof will be fixed.

But, deep inside, I know that I can never be a house.

 

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The Voodoo Doll of Loneliness



It follows me everywhere,

Through the day and night.

Its devlish smirks all over the air,

Triggering an anxiety and a ghastly fright.

 

It never ceases to overwhelm,

It never ceases to stand down.

Even the smallest moments of elation,

Are ripped apart and yes I begin to drown.

 

Forgive me oh dear lord,

I know I have sinned.

Years of plodding in the desert of penance,

I’m already half torn, already skinned.

 

Yet, you still seek my retribution,

But why don’t you for once call a truce?

Didn’t you ever hear about absolution?

Oh for once let me unloose.

 

You threw me away miles away from my home,

Yet, your revenge plot never comes to an end.

So how much more should I aimlessly roam?

I am fed up, the pain made my heart distend.

 

I have now understood that It shall never leave me,

And thus I gave it a name.

‘The voodoo doll of loneliness’, shall never let me free,

For I am the only pawn in thee game.

My Dad, My Hero!


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He held my hand, he made me walk,

He taught me words and made me talk.

He was an angel, a hero in disguise

He showed me life, he made me wise.

 

He made he happy, he made me smile,

He never rated anything more and for that he walked that extra mile.

He never asked anything back from me,

He was unconditional, his love was always free.

 

He was hurting inside, he didn’t want me to leave,

He just bore a fake smile, he didn’t want me to grieve.

He couldn’t walk away, he couldn’t let me go,

He controlled himself, he never let anything show

 

He couldn’t stay like this, he couldn’t sleep at night,

He was waiting for my return, he kept praying to God to allow him my sight.

He wanted to talk to me, he hesitated to call,

He didn’t want to disturb, he continued to wrawl.

 

He never knew that I was coming back,

He was still waiting for me, unaware of my track.

He then saw me at his door, he suddenly froze,

He had tears in his eyes, all his lost spirits now arose.

 

He came running, he hugged me tight,

His wailing heart was now happy, he never again wanted to let me go not even slight .

He never knew my love for him, he never asked me for it,

He still always loved me and that’s how it seemed him fit.

He is my dad!

PS: If you are reading this please take a moment of your life to reflect upon everything that your parents have sacrificed for your happiness. No love is more purer that the love shown by your parents towards you and to acknowledge that is the least that we can do.

A lost addiction..


Its been ages that I have sat down to write ,

The dearest hobby that I had which made my every scary night very bright.

Each and every day I try to set the things right ,

But never found any solace ,not even slight.

What should I do to get my courage back,

Did I still have it in me to write and get back on track ?

Each and every second now started making a violent whack ,

Oh god, please spare me some light for the night is awfully black.

“Just stay calm!” ordered my aching heart,

That’s right I thought, thinking too much would only tear me apart,

All I needed was to get a proper start,

For, my rage never dies neither does my art.

My heart has now agreed to sign a pact,

That only if I write , it shall hold me intact,

Now my fears slowly started loosing their impact,

Oh god  just let me write, I have already lost in love and you have nothing left  in me to detract.

Selling the self..!


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Lying on my bed every night ,

I think of everything I’ve done- wrong and right.

Each distinct memory revving by,

Some making me giggle and some making me cry.

“What makes you happy ?” asked my heart,

The answer was merely an overwhelming void that tore me apart.

“Is there anything that I love” , asked my soul,

Its another big void- sucking everything up like a giant black hole.

I then thought,”Can I spread happiness or at least make someone smile?”

Yeah, many people raised their hands, a petty little solace at the end of an aisle.

But then, “What makes ME happy ?” is what I really want to know,

A puzzle still unanswered- a never ending woe.

Who am I ? and what do I want ?

Each answer starts asking something new, the night begins to haunt.

Something immediately seemed to ease my pain,

It brought some hope, it soothed the sprain.

The thought- “May be this is what a man is destined to do,

To spread happiness and joy, to let the light spread through, 

To just show the way and then step aside,

To let the people walk, run and let them ride the tide.

And then rejoice their success,

You will find the pain vanish, you’ll find it regress.

Its not always the ‘‘ in your LIFE,

Spreading the Love, being a Friend and bearing some Empathy shall also lets you thrive”.

This was what love meant after all: sacrifice and selflessness. It did not mean hearts and flowers and a happy ending, but the knowledge that another’s well-being is more important than one’s own- Anonymous