Poem I
Pebbles & Petals
Hard, broken, worn out and cold.
Beauty which will ever so softly unfold.
Subtle shades of monochrome hues.
Vibrant blossoms adorned with dews.
Fragmented, shattered, but ever so strong.
Last but only till the end of summer’s song.
Paves the way for your best foot forward.
Adorns the path for those to be honoured.
A game of Tic Tac Toe for the children you chide.
A shower of blessings to welcome the blushing bride.
Helped David bring down Goliath with just a humble sling.
Sweet nectar for birds and the bees that sing.
Hatred, riots, death of the dove.
A gesture of goodwill, from those who come with love.
I closed my eyes and thought from every perspective.
Would two things so different ever meet for a single objective?
So, when the time comes for my soul to finally rest…
cover my grave with pebbles and lay petals on my chest.
Poem II
Sacrifice
Sacrifices must be made.
Lives must be lost.
If this is a game,
I must win at all costs.
Sacrifices just have to be made. I’m forced to give up a lot. With a soul that cries from within, I offer you all that I’ve got.
I’ll take my time, find the weakest link. Killed my conscience long ago. Killing you, I wouldn’t blink.
I’ll take my time, To cherish you all day. You’ve always been my dearest. With a heavy heart, I must send you away.
Manipulation and deceit, I’ll trap the chosen one. With the swing of an axe, my job here is done.
A hug and a prayer, you go to a better place. I look away, to hide the pain and shame on my face.
We’ve all been there, on someone's chopping block. Been hurt and betrayed, left in shock.
When it’s all said and done, it’s left to the vote. Were you the Sacrificial Lamb, or the Scapegoat? ~ someone who has been wronged
We’ve all been there, with someone’s head on our chopping block. Had them hurt and betrayed, left in shock.
When it’s all said and done, it’s left to the vote. Were they the Sacrificial Lamb, or the Scapegoat? ~ someone who has wronged another.
Poem III
Plastic
Plastic goods meant for use and throw, to be meaninglessly disposed as along you go. Plastic covers, some meant to hide, others made to protect, what's enclosed inside. Plastic articles, convenient - for your ease, to be discarded and replaced as you please. Plastic planet, being filled each day, with everything we’re trying to throw away.
Plastic smiles
meant for use and throw,
to be meaninglessly disposed
as along you go.
Plastic conversations,
some meant to hide,
others made to protect,
what's enclosed inside.
Plastic alliances,
convenient - for your ease,
to be discarded and replaced
as you please.
Plastic minds,
being filled each day,
with everything we’re trying
to throw away.
~ someone plastic
Poem IV
Hammer & Chisel
One sets the target,
the other brings the force.
Each strike, a rhythm –
set to the aim of a tone.
Every chip and chisel endured
…as stubborn and strong
as the rock may be.
The visionary chipping away at the imperfections.
The strategist chiselling at the vulnerabilities.
A mere object subjected to an objective.
The forbearing, have hardships borne.
The goal –
either an exceptional creation
or someone being deliberately torn.
What becomes of the rock
will all depend…
on the ones who hold the tools
and what they intend.
~ someone being chipped away.
Poem V
Labels
A guy with a long list is titled ‘Romantic’.
But a girl is just labelled a ‘Tramp’.
He can show-off his well chiselled body.
But if she does, she’ll just be given another stamp.
His late nights at the office are deemed hectic.
But a girl would be labelled a ‘Whore’.
He can have guests over at any time.
But a girl shouldn’t welcome any male at her door.
He can have countless friends and followers.
Same for a girl? She is just another ‘Broad’.
He can stay at the parties till the morning.
For a girl, that is inviting a label she cannot afford.
He can chat up with women just randomly.
But a girl, “Haven’t you heard?”
“Yeah, she’s a ‘Tease!”
He can toss them in and out of the friend zone.
The girl though, “She is wicked! She’s got them trapped with such ease.”
He can work all odd hours to make a living.
But a girl? Chances are she’s a ‘Slut’.
He can be manspreading while seated in public.
Good girls sit straight keeping their knees shut.
He will show off his neck with the hickey.
“Couldn’t she have covered it with makeup?”
“What a ‘Bitch’!”
He is given a pat on his back for his achievements.
When it comes to giving her labels, why doesn’t society try having a mentality switch?
~ someone with enough labels to give
Poem VI
Truly False
While the truth might seem fair to you,
but for some it’s hardly that!
Innocent are some liars knew he –
who on the chair of judgement sat.
Honesty and perjury both intertwined
in a knot hard to untie.
The truth without context is meant to be,
just another well fabricated lie.
Often times than not, my dear,
the facts are twisted to deceive.
The only truth that truly matters is –
the falsity we choose to believe.
~ someone honestly lying
How is it so far?
Loved it!
Liked it
Forget it
Hated it
Poem VII
Worth
Let’s start with an incomplete question…
“What is your worth?”
Was it given to you at birth?
The first time you cried.
Was it decided by the colour of your skin
or your family’s status and pride?
Is your worth its weight in the pounds you’ve lost