Why cant i meet those people ,
Writing their stories…
Leaving an indelible mark on us all
Penning the what could be and what ought to be…
Myriad characters with their variations…
Emotions enveloping them in their complexities
Where every step they take fills you with awe or trepidation..
Where you can paint their many pictures and welcome each one..with open arms
Why can’t I be there writing their stories..
Where is your humanity ?
Where is your conscience ?
Does not your heart shudder at the thought of such cruelty.
Does not your skin crawl with the memory of the brutality.
Does morality and righteousness hold no value to you anymore.
Are you a victim of circumstance or are you willingly committing these atrocities
Would your excuse be that your circumstances are responsible hurting the innocent.
Don’t you wake up at night with the screams of those who lost their lives
Who are you and What do you hold dear ?
YOu are down and out
Your courage has but dwindled
Your shoulders can no longer bear the weight of the world
Your feet are heavy with the burden of your mistakes and predicaments.
You will give up on it all
in many of your waking moments
and many more sleepless ones
The gross injustice that is your life
But strength does exist.
It lives in weird places and sneaks in at unearthly hours
And it creeps up on you…Listen to your heart..
Listen to those who matter to you.
We have but one life to live
One life to be brave…
Humour has diverse forms.
There is none other alike.
It takes the edge off life.
One always needs to have, a little bit
A sense, a sense for wit.
Humour makes one laugh and heals.
It is a friend during our life’s trials.
Like the friends who stay on,
And leave their marks hereon.
I learnt from humour and the like,
That we are never too late to learn,
That jokes we crack could turn,
And cruelly chew our behinds in return.
Humour brings a smile to the face.
But is also used to deface
And be someone’s utter disgrace.
So learn it use it worldly wise,
Lest it turns out to be your demise.
What is it to truly leave a part of you behind?
How does it feel to end a journey ?
What does it take to steel yourself from the force of emotions that hits you.
What if what you love, you can’t keep?
How does it feel to know that everything you have known will be left behind ?
And you have tears brimming in your eyes…
And you can’t turn back… Nor can you go back.
There is nothing there for you.
Trying hard to leave…
You are trying hard to let go, to let them go.
Love takes prisoners with it and you are waiting…
Waiting for the sinking feeling and the final parting.
The hardest part is always good-bye.
- Just Another Day (kaspersworld.wordpress.com)
The heart is an amazing thing,
The heart wows, it wonders,
It engages , it cavourts,
It sometimes gets broken and is sometimes whole.
One minute, it is full of life and love,
The next, the heart is shattered.
It dies a slow, painful death,
Taking with it vivid memories, sharp and bittersweet.