A Lone Feel

Loneliness can do so many things to a man.

I do not know them otherwise I’d write them down.

But I do know the feel when there was no one around.

No one to talk with or ask for help.

No one and nothing to feel this void with.

No one to share things with, like this new song I found today.

And today when I sought someone from crowd to call my name like it mattered to him or her.

Absolutely no one when there was so much of free time and the absurdity of its,

Vastness, kicked me to the solid ground.

And it was only when I hit the ground I came to know it was solid.

There have been times I wanted to ask for help.

But something stops ticking, stops my voice as I speak.

Keep your baggage to yourself and carry it.

Alone.

Everyone is. And they do not ask you for any help.

I’ve thought if I stop speaking,

Then, maybe only then,

I will learn how to go through life and things and not let any feel dwindle myself.

I pray and I hope for its meaning to add to life.

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The tale which has days

Another day begins and I am done,

With waking up and renewing myself.

The effort alone is not enough,

Unless the bird cries the hardest and,

It shakes the cage.

Ask me what I can do and I will say,

I will be happy for others and depressed for myself.

These different phases do not call for help,

But these apologies stay here and do not fly,

Where they should go.

They should soothe the ones I wounded.

I keep them to myself, this inability,

What are the chances of going back now.

I ask now, you and everyone,

I am not good at this thing where,

Feeling warm and sorry should be extended.

I am cold and I am swallowing many things,

To let these words pass without any hiccups.

I am sorry for things done and words said,

And I ain’t doing this to keep my days easy.

I am me, and will continue to be.

But I want you to forget your wounds and,

And just go on with the days.

You are real and good.

Stay so.

Stories of any kind

The kind of stories I want to tell,

I do not know If,

I will ever be able to tell them as they are.

To say a poor man is poor,

I will tell you about him,

And the things he did to endure the day,

And fill his belly with food.

I will tell but I will hope,

The man finds his happiness soon.

I know it will make my stories false.

But I will be truly happy then.

Feel this art we create with lives,

These lives are of humans like us.

We will pinpoint differences later,

For now, they are just like us.

I don’t want to be proud of something,

Which came out of someone’s miserable days.

I would have written about my life,

But this boredom rules the king.

Picking up a piece from a life,

And holding it against voices and opinions,

It is cruel when it emits satisfaction to the ego.

All while their origins remain the same way they were.

Our boring live must be content,

With the little crux we have.

Ordinary things are beautiful too.

I will go

I am going out tonight without any care.

I have given it to the lost sounds of the world,

Who go places with the wandering wind and shout,

To become known to people.
I will go to the desert.

Not because I am a loner or I like the sand in my mouth and eyes and everywhere.

I will go for the simple sun,

And how it gives life to everyone and everything.

I will go there for the night there does not have any secret.

They are long and cold and one part of them is nature, always.
Then I would go up in the sky.

It is foolish to think about flying.

But I like the feel of wind thrashing against my face,

And how it makes my eyes watery.

I will go up in the sky to see how blue they can be,

And what is the point where blue gives way to black.
The point of no return.

Everyone is going there, alone.

I am included too.

But not today or tomorrow,

But someday definitely.

I will go to many places.

I will even go in the future with this baggage of past.

Maybe I will see this longing as it comes to everyone.

And hope.

I will hope for everything good.

But I will not mind bad sometimes.