Yeah, CHANGE IS THE ONLY CONSTANT, and this diary entry is
dedicated to my myriad mood swings in the past few days, and the resulting poems
I came up with. Bear with me, for I will not make such omnibus posts henceforth:
Poem 1
Trudging the road to Moon's dark side,
Tired, hurt, hungry: umpteen times, but I never cried.
It's the thirst for perfection; and I vie,
And I have not lived, and I dare not Die!
Poem 1
Trudging the road to Moon's dark side,
Tired, hurt, hungry: umpteen times, but I never cried.
It's the thirst for perfection; and I vie,
And I have not lived, and I dare not Die!
And then I came up with a funny way to remember one Income Tax section:
If wishes were horses, I'd own a stud farm,
And still get away, mischieving Section 74A!!!
If wishes were horses, I'd own a stud farm,
And still get away, mischieving Section 74A!!!
And I feel it was supposed to be funny, init? hmmmm....
Ok, coming to the point, yes, I AM ANGRY at someone... I mean how can someone b so arrogant yaa, so very arrogant? busy?
To be precise, (not a poem, lyrics from one of my favourite songs these days):
I've become to numb,
I can't feel you there...
Become so tired,
So much more aware,
I'm becoming this,
all I want to do,
is b more like me,
and b less like u.
And so I came up with:
It's in the best of times,
When it can't be better,
You're actually in line
When the days can't be more bitter.
They thought that I was bold,
but teary, wet in winter, I caught this cold.
They took me as calm,
Now wait, for here rings the alarm.
So warm, I was taught to be
Until things nearly killed that me.
Just one wish, a dream I had.
That, and I was so glad.
Trudging the thorny irritating path –
Just one faith, living pure among sins,
A life of simple joys, small things.
And now that’s become utterly disgusting.
And pinches like on needles I'm resting.
Clasped hand in hand, us and peace everywhere.
A feeling of bondedness, a life we share.
Do you have this urge too, like I have,
to hold someone and cry, but only a pillow is all you have.?
Doesn't one deserve his share of li'l joys?.
Why are emotions supposed to be toys?
Broken, burnt, smashed and killed-
is it something common, or is it, is it just me?
And here’s the irony, yes, I've a fickle minded head.
I don't wanna be alive, but can't afford to be dead.
I can't feel you there...
Become so tired,
So much more aware,
I'm becoming this,
all I want to do,
is b more like me,
and b less like u.
And so I came up with:
It's in the best of times,
When it can't be better,
You're actually in line
When the days can't be more bitter.
They thought that I was bold,
but teary, wet in winter, I caught this cold.
They took me as calm,
Now wait, for here rings the alarm.
So warm, I was taught to be
Until things nearly killed that me.
Just one wish, a dream I had.
That, and I was so glad.
Trudging the thorny irritating path –
Just one faith, living pure among sins,
A life of simple joys, small things.
And now that’s become utterly disgusting.
And pinches like on needles I'm resting.
Clasped hand in hand, us and peace everywhere.
A feeling of bondedness, a life we share.
Do you have this urge too, like I have,
to hold someone and cry, but only a pillow is all you have.?
Doesn't one deserve his share of li'l joys?.
Why are emotions supposed to be toys?
Broken, burnt, smashed and killed-
is it something common, or is it, is it just me?
And here’s the irony, yes, I've a fickle minded head.
I don't wanna be alive, but can't afford to be dead.
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