Where was I

In thoughts
in fear
in hearts far and near
in whispers
did you hear?
I was in you
in laughter
in tears
in sighs
in sight
in line
in dot
in dreams
in shots
I was in you
in heart
in soul
we got hot
we got cold
yet death did not take control
I live again..with lots unsaid .untold

When I was young

I had a sharp tongue

screamed on top of my lungs

swayed away, strayed and lunged

Quick in mind and words

Survived those days

got away with murder

Not now..no more

I realized one thing for sure

words can be friends

can make enemies to end

I now think and say

each day..a bit no more that I can admit

to have said it almost sweet and right

press lips tight..no fights

Life is better than before

Youth may have gone

smile is set on lips

no more need to bite the tongue tip

Portrait called life

Pasted on a wall…that is blank..is that a life..always on hang ;)can I loose myself and break free and be myself..the real me..
I think..I should try at least 🙂 To put colors in life as I please.
Change the postures as many as can be..and relax with sizes and prizes that please.
Life is painted and erased with ease , come close and view portrait of life with me..can you see that smile not reaching eyes ..or that tears just blinked off to release…a shooting pain or surging fright..are you in dark ..are you in light.. sketch would be better than paint. waves on face are deeper than lines that erase..how will you dry me..in gloomy rains..tell me once again..

Is the breeze here

In my heart a feeling is there

The breeze has touched to pass here

Deafening sound  demolishing all

In my heart there was no wall

Yet I feel an iron ball

Hit it hard and break it through

Pain is piercing , roughening too

I am silenced , as I am bruised

How will it go..am confused

Help ..I call…am refused

soaking wet ..eyes defused.

Will it bleed..or just die

Heart is dying..eyes don’t cry

Smile can be my last try.

 

 

 

 

 

Scars

Scars are deep…those  inflicted and never dressed..those wounds remain open..and reminds us of that pain..that severe harsh  insult..or that slap..that make legs weak..those are the hidden scars..we dread..and want to hide…because no one listens to the wailing cry..those tears that couldn’t drop..with fear ..trembling lips..that tried to remain pressed to suppress the loudness…you can not see..those scars..that haunt from depth ..from heart..when someone  loves or is kind..tears just drop…as if..you are set free.