Enroute late night And I am lost; But in the darkness I see a way
Oh yes it was fun, But now it’s time For me to be back And on my way
So I am now heading the way, I only knew at the time To go to the place I call my home
It is my destiny and my refugee, It is my heaven and my dwelling It’s where I go back to when I am lost
Now I am tired And I wanna mend All of that’s Broken inside of me And I just wanna go to the place I call my home
I know it’s a bit small But it’s big enough Maybe a bit messy But that’s okay
I’ve been to places, And beautiful and grand palaces I’ve been to hotels As well as stayed in motels
But none fit quite as right As right as my own sweet home It doesn’t have the best smell, But has a quite comforting fragrance
I can see the paint come off And I can see the naked walls Yes the curtains are a bit crusty And the door handles have been rusty
It now feels like a piece, A unique artist’s piece
Now I’m becoming restless Maybe I just need some rest.
Just now swerved to right, And I can see some street lights Now I feel like running away But I just wanna run along to my destiny; to My home.
Yet another poem on home, because Home indeed is a most special place.
This is yet another one of my favourites, because this poem has my thoughts and words, just as they flowed in my mind, not much edited, but still beautiful. It’s good to express things sometimes without any alterations especially when about such a thing as the HOME’.
There are things that I’d like to say And things that I’d like to express; But I don’t see a way And so I simply supress
I have freedom of speech But is my voice being heard? I feel all words fall out of reach And nothing comforts my fears.
I feel like starting a war, But I am not even at peace with myself I feel I am being misunderstood But even I, myself am unable to comprehend
Too many things and too many thoughts So many that now it’s only chaos Which shall I say first; And which shall I believe to be true?
My questions unanswered, They get supressed inside of me And I carry them every morning I carry them forever on me.
According to Wikipedia, an internal conflict is the struggle occurring within a character’s mind.
In life we all are fighting our own battles, but there are some battles we are afraid to speak of, because of the fear of being called a coward or simply because we feel that no one around will understand us. So what do we do? We simply ‘supress’ these emotions, thoughts, questions and many more, which we all know that one day will surely overflow.
I’ve written this short poem inspired by such an incident. But I am certain that we all must’ve felt this way at some point in life and it’s okay. We’re humans and we make mistakes and wrong judgements- no shame. Just accept and express them and all will be okay. Find answers to your unanswered questions but not on google rather in the conversation of another fellow being. It could be anyone: your family, friends, teachers, well-wishers, comrades. But speak and get them answered. Express and be heard. Be a phoenix and rise from the ashes. Rise from the mistakes of your past self to shine in your present one.
She is who she is, It isn’t something she chose to be But she’s carrying it out so well Better than most of me
She is often judged And often she is labelled “Nutcase”, “psychopath” & “retarded” “Ill” and “deranged” and “mad”
They like to call her nicknames And avoid her at every lane All remember to bully and harass her But never does one befriend her
They think she’s insane and a lunatic But she definitely has got a gift Her memory it is that astonishes me As to how can one comprehend so many
She remembers my birthdate always And wishes me before my fellow comrades And when she speaks so much innocence flows Oh what a pure heart and what a pretty soul
Often so ignored she is, And they talk behind her back so much shit But she’ll always reproach with a smile And spread out arms in welcome and warmth
It is not her that’s “bad” But, people’s mind that’s “corrupted” Their minds that have now become brains With so much cunning and so much games
But she still is the same Like a new born baby So soft and innocent She doesn’t see their guile She doesn’t recognise their plan
And when I first joined, Everyone was so kind, to let me know: “Avoid her and ignore her” “She’s crazy, and she’s stupid” “And you definitely don’t wanna be seen with her”
And for some time I did so as i was told Cause I didn’t wanna be ignored And becoming an outcast was my fear And I really wanted to try and “fit”
So, I really did my best To avoid and to ignore her, Until one day she walked up to me With open arms and beautiful smile And in a sweet tone she said to me “Hi, I’m Ava! and it’s nice to meet” It was then when my heart fell And I felt disgust in my vein As to how could I have been so deranged As to how could I be so feared As to how I couldn’t tell What could an innocent soul so pure Do to my pitiful self?
And since then to make up, For the guilt I felt inside of me I tried the very best of me To greet her at every meet
Now years later, when puberty has hit And maturity has striked I have now realised That deranged I was more than her To have come under the influence of peers
So, now I remember and pray And I hope that she’s doing well They then made her an outcast But little did they know, they were only making her standout
I also now pray for the world, I pray for the humanity more than her, I pray humanity to be more like her Innocent and pure and beautiful just as her
When did we learn so to judge When did our minds get so corrupt When did we feel prejudiced over our conditions Something we have no control on?
I hope that as we have developed So will our thinking and our thoughts And one day the world shall be All prejudice free.
This poem is from one of my personal experiences at school. By reading it, you must’ve pretty much understood what it deals with. And it’s not really required for me to say more.
Still, I wish to address this issue: In different ages of my life, I have come across people who are “Special” and no, I am not just calling them special because they’re different, rather because they really are special and very beautiful indeed. But often we take this ‘speciality’ of theirs as a joke, why? because that’s not “NORMAL!” and to fit in well, YOU HAVE TO BE NORMAL, nothing more-nothing less. Like in this case, this person was perfect, the only thing she didn’t have was the “cunningness”, she wasn’t “wordly”, it wasn’t that she wasn’t smart or intelligent. As a matter of fact, she always scored the top rank in her grade and always won sorts of GK competitions. And as mentioned her speciality was her memory, and no, I am not exaggerating when I say this person not only remembered most of the school’s birthdays but also of their families.
She was a humble and honest soul, with the soft voice like an angel and a peaceful smile she’d always wear. But something that hurt me the most, was how “they” treated her.
It’s been days, Since last my eyes lay On the beautiful sight Of her face
I remember the times I spent with her, I miss her laugh and I miss her mirth
I miss her now more than ever, In the harsh winter and cold weather
I hold a picture,of hers, in hands of mine That I always keep close to my heart, tight
Sometimes, tears roll down my eyes When I become desperate to see her sight; To talk to her and hug her tight And to let her know I will always be right beside.
I pray for her every day and I pray for her every night But not in a church, temple or mosque Rather in the heart of mine Which is filled with love for her all-time
I pray and hope that she’s doing well I pray that she behaves good I pray that she doesn’t trouble more And I pray that she knows, I will always love her more and more.
Even though it’s difficult to say, I hope that one day, when I’ll return I’ll be able to hug her tight And not just a picture of hers, In hands of mine And will be able to stare into her dark beautiful eyes And to let her know, That I’ll always love her more and more
One day when I shall return I hope she still recognises my sight I hope that when I return, I’ll be able to wish her ‘Good Night!’
One day, maybe when I’ll return She would’ve turned into a lady, very wise A good human : gentle and nice And a generous heart with a strong mind.
Still far away I love her smiles And miss her more every day and night And I pray for her everytime; In the generous heart of mine
Hey there! I have written this poem as a tribute to our brave heroes. I have written it from the point of view of a soldier and a father, who on duty serving his country misses his dearest daughter and just has a little wish : to be able to see her daughter one day.
Growing up, there were times when my father lived away from us for work and I would see him once in months. Even though we talked to him frequently, a part of me missed him greatly.
So in regards to this, I can only merely imagine the desire to be home and to be with family that soldiers feel; just like our soldier in this poem.
In today’s world of wars, there maybe soldiers alike, who are away from their little girls and boys and parents and wives and husbands, just wanting to return home, only to see the sight of their beloved ones.
So, a BIG SALUTE TO ALL OUR HEROES! for all that they have been doing : for their sacrifices so that other fathers can be safe with their little daughters. 🙂
She looks different now, not the same old girl. She is different now, not the same old person She looks beautiful now, but not as comfortable
All she wanted is attention, But she never got any, She wanted to be happy But she couldn’t be
Wasn’t what she wanted, But she had no choice She wished to be accepted But she never was
All the others teased her And they said her mean words She did best to ignore them But she couldn’t do
Now you see her smiling, But inside she’s crying Wasn’t what she wanted, But, she had no choice
She was at the edge of breaking And every night she was crying She went through depression And took a lot pills
She wasn’t shrewd But more terrified Everyone taunted her And Everything haunted her
And that is what forced her to be And that is what forced her to change
She didn’t want to fit in, But just wanted to be accepted She was scared of being an outcast And she only wanted to be loved
Now some judge her for being changed But before she was judged for being the same And although she never wanted to change She had no choice
She just wanted to be happy But she couldn’t be
She looks different now, not the same old girl. She is different now, not the same old person She looks beautiful now, but not as comfortable
I got the idea to write this poem, in regards to the personal experience I’ve had. Such as at times when people have said to me that I looked like a “nice girl”, when I put on a dress and makeup, and whilst this is a purely generous compliment, in the teenage years for me it became a goal to always put on makeup and wear nice dresses whenever going out only because I always wanted to be considered a ‘nice girl’.
It has become the trend of the time, especially with all the stereotypes, that girls have to fit in and be a certain way : they must wear dresses and put on makeup etc. to be well-accepted by peers. While it’s said that people’s opinion about you shouldn’t matter to you and that you should just be “you”, sometimes we just want to fit in right? I mean no one likes being an “outcast” or being teased for not being “girly” enough………….right?
Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it! See ya next week 🙂
I am happy And I want to be At all times Smiling with glee.
Don’t wanna be judged By other’s eyes I just wanna laugh and smile
Gliding through my way like an eagle, Flying high and soaring above, Flying high with freedom in wings And flying high with a lot of speed
But, still stopping at times And having fun in between To enjoy this beautiful thing That people call “life”
Taking time to appreciate nature, Taking time to smell some roses, Taking time to write some poetry, Taking time to do things I like
Don’t wanna be around people, important, Wanna be with people that love and care People who see the good in me People like my friends and family
I wanna find the reason to be born Find my purpose and serve it well Wanna do things that I love Without being judged or weighed
Criticisms and Quarrels I don’t want any More like admiration and affection And love and peace
Don’t want likes, But just wanna put out the word As memoirs of me When I leave this earth
Just some silly things of me: Are I like humour and poetry And like to store tissue papers With some notes written on it I do graffiti on my books And daydream to be lost Love the smell of petrol And reading things like Othello
Ambition and resourcefulness, my most prized traits And my brother, my most favrouite person I like to play video-games And like to put my hair in plaits
Yes, life goes at a fast pace, And time stops for none But I wanna take time out to appreciate Because who knows, if next moment, I’d still be here to do the same
I wanna make my own name in the world A name that later shall be remembered Wanna change the world for others Even if it’s few Then the purpose will be served
At the end of the long day I just want to be able to say: I am happy And I want to be At all times Smiling with glee.
Be happy and always take time out to smile, because you never know, if you will have another moment to.
This poem I just can’t sum up into a brief summary, because it just says a lot on my behalf. But, one thing I can surely say that at the end of the day, all of us want to be happy, right? Just as said by the legendary Shah Rukh Khan :
Aur aaj is baat ka bhi yakeen ho gaya ki humari filmon ki tarah, humari zindagi mein bhi end tak sab kuch theek hi ho jaata hai. Happys Ending! Aur agar theek naa ho to woh ‘The End’ nahi . Picture abhi baaki hai mere dost!. Picture abhi baaki hai.
Movie : Om Shanti Om; Dir. : Farah Khan; Perf. : Shahrukh khan
Translating the above quote in English would mean: And today I am convinced that like our films even in our lives all’s well that ends well and if something does not end well, it implies that the best is yet to come until Happy Endings.
Into the blackness, I stare, Into the darkness, I stare, Only to see a light of hope Only to see a light of home
I just wanna be back: I just wanna be back home once more But I am lost in my way And I’m losing my hope
I see nothing ahead, I see nothing behind, I don’t see a path that leads Leads me back to my home
I have now come far away Far, far away from my home I look all around me But not a single familiar sight I see
I now see paths ahead of me, Paths ahead of me diverged in directions different I stand there and see as far as one’s eyes can see But none I see diverges and leads My pitiful soul back to my home
I don’t want the vanity, I am about to lose my sanity, I can no more distinguish the reality I just wish to be home again Back to my gravity.
I don’t want to be here anymore, I wish to travel back on my steps And return myself back to my home Back to my home is where I belong
I then suddenly feel a jerk It felt like my world falling apart It felt as if the ground was taken away It felt as if the end of the day
A jerk then again, hit my head hard a gush of cold wind and my heartbeats rise
And then a sound I heard, A some sweet angel call my name
“It’s time”; “it’s time”, the sweet voice said Is it time for me to be back home? “It’s time”; “it’s time”, once more it said
I felt a shiver go down my spine But then a soft hand on my head I felt A sweet kiss on my cheek Another a sweet word on my ears fell: “Wake up honey, it’s time for you”
So I opened my eyes being brave Trying to be strong To face my fate And I saw a sight: I was home again Alas! I was back to my home again.
Home is always a special place to be. It’s a place of comfort and peace. It’s better than all the luxurious hotels and resorts of the world. No matter how big or small it may be, it’s always a beautiful place to confine in, A beautiful place to be. Home is like a small heaven in itself.
After traveling all the places, returning back home : the place where I started from, is always a pleasure.
Yeah, no, deep down we both know: Who played it well and who played it fair Deep down you too know that I deserved it more But guess the flattery was more ornamental than the truth.
It’s said flattery is easy, but always bad And that the truth is always hard but always good Then why did the flattery conquer over the truth? Why was the flattery more praised than the truth?
I’m not complaining, but just sad, Sad as to why, I wasn’t praised Sad as to why, my efforts didn’t pay Sad as to why, I was unnoticed.
So, I feel tempted now to change my ways I feel why to work hard and why to be true, When flattery can always pave a way When a battle can be won more easily.
Cause I don’t think it’s that difficult, And I think that I too could pose What I am not And I too could play along
But, then will I be satisfied? Will I feel worthy? Of all that I’ll win And all that I’ll conquer
Will that victory really be mine? Or will it just be of the mask that I’d put on? Will I even be “me” anymore? Or will I just become one of the many characters?
NO! I’ve come to terms with myself And I don’t wanna be someone else, I don’t wanna put on a happy face and I don’t wanna get all that with a play.
But, I still do wanna win; But I wanna win my own victory I wanna be worthy of it And I wanna be deserving of it
I’ve realised the true beauty in being real The beauty that cannot be faked, And I’d rather be crumpled and dry Than be a fake flower and bloom for all of eternity.
Life isn’t always fair, but that doesn’t give you a reason to be unfair.
We may come across many such situations in life, where life will be unfair to us, where even after putting in our best efforts, we might lose. In this case, lose to “flattery” or “falsehood”. But always remember even though the artificial diamond might seem more shining and appealing to the eye, it will never be real or valued.
You don’t have to mend your ways to win, you have to win on your own terms and be ‘the beauty’. The beauty of being you and the beauty of being true.
When they meet me, They say I live reclusively Do they forget? It was them that made me to
Every time I’d come along, You preferred for me to be aside And when u left me on myself; My solitary was my refugee
And no! I’m not “shut away” Neither am I “anti-social” Nor an “introvert” Not even “withdrawn” or perhaps “cloistered”
But now, Is there anything to complain? I like my space, I like my solitary life
But not that I’m not a “company-lover” I am more “convivial” and “jovial” More like “gregarious” And “sociable” and “extroverted”
But did I have a full chance to be? I learned that, To be in a company, being a company-lover was not sufficient, The company too must be acceptable towards you
And since the years; I’ve tried Ways of Google and Ways of Communication But alas! I’ve always found meself back alone
And for years I did think, That the fault was all mine That I was not enough good, Not enough acceptable, Not enough gregarious And so I was left.
But its been time now, Since I’ve stopped blaming myself For the ways that others treat me And I am really okay with it
Yes sometimes I may feel alone or a bit bored perhaps But I always have myself with me And I am happy this way too I have found pleasure in the times I spent with myself.
But that doesn’t mean that I have stopped being an extrovert Or have coiled myself in I still go out and meet people Because maybe one day I might find, The one I was meant to: Another one just like me.
My Solitude is a poem, very close to my heart. I was inspired to write this by an incident and many more such former incidents in life, when I was left aside.