Writer's Dream


How do I learn to love, when I barely crack a smile? How do I fix shattered hearts, when offered a paste of flour? To walk in this pair of boots, known to leave prints of disgust and hate. Will I have to fake it all like a Fischer’s chameleon? Hide my pile of emotions like a child hiding a candy bar?

One thing for sure, I won’t shy from the lies, sorrow and agony that has surrounded me for years. When dawn comes and my eyes make peace with the sun’s golden rays, I have a choice to make. I have to be the best that I can be.

So if you are a lover.

be a sea of seven colors.

If you are a giver,

give till it aches.


If you are royal,

let masses chant your name.

If you are a cheerer,

fill their eyes with laughter.


If you are a builder,

thank your boundless arms.

If you are a dreamer,

look up to the blue skies.


If you are a healer,

be a fountain of hope.

If you are a spooner,

You are irreplaceable.

You are all irreplaceable.


I strike a match of hope,

to blaze in sincerity and wisdom.

I speak from my heart,

to open up my mind and soul.

Join me in my endeavors.


Her voice

Keep your head up child,

Keep your shoulders broad,

Keep pushing,

better days are coming.


Neither tire nor worry,

keep shuffling your feet if may,

not looking back.

Better days are coming.


Nothing to cling to?

No one to lean on?

Just a blade of faith

To keep you moving?

Better days are coming child.




Blue skies

I am a victim of fear.

fear to face tomorrow,

fear to trust another,

fear to love again.


I am a victim of criticism.

Critics haunt my being,

critics burn my ears,

critics shred my dreams.


I am a victim of hesitation.

Suppressed by memories,

I retreat deeper and deeper

to where it all begins.


Despite all, I rise.

For it keeps me warm,

erasing my doubts.

Blue skies are my remedy.

The faint line.

A man’s word is brittle,

quick to impress,

hard to keep.

He seeks pleasure,

in the puny issues in life.


But a man with guts

driven by passion,

armed with an affection for others

and who picks the right time for war,

is a man of his word.

Never too late.

It’s never too late

to chase the wild winds

that breathes hope

into your wrecked soul.


It’s never too late,

to live in your memories

painted with a brush of glamour

flicked on a wall of dreams.


It’s never too late,

to stare into her eyes,

her sweet brown eyes

clasping her tight in your arms.


The beauty in you,

is one of a kind.

The peace in you,

is overwhelming to me.


Yet they shove you to the front,

of the deadliest battles in life.

They fail to understand,

that you are a fighter.


You’ve always been,

the master behind the scene.

Who lets them think,

they have it all.

Born with imperfections

It’s human nature to unveil.

It’s human nature to conquer,

to build,

to destroy,

to question every motive,

as an alternative.


It’s human nature to be blinded by lies,

to be stuck in the mud,

to run into trees,

to cry under the rain.


But, it’s also within us,

to rekindle lost affection,

to lessen the pain inflicted among us,

gently like a mother’s touch.


We will shift to the brighter side.

We will seek the moon,

and restore the good.

Neither with shame nor tears in our eyes.

True Desires

We long for love,

When we run low.

We long for joy,

When bond by sorrow.


We long to be held,

When our hearts bleed.

We long for appreciation,

For the weights lifted, backs broken and time stolen

our eyes falling short of such.


We seek the untold seas,

Sipping plenty of life from it

To replenish our souls

our eyes falling short of such.


But fate reveals our weaknesses,

Leaving us pleading for more today,


and the day after

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