Oh to be the poem, not the poet.
I wish I were the poem, not the hand that weaves it. I want to be the pause, not the reason? it pauses.
Ardra TJ
Writer, Poet at heart, Engineer by mind :) . Maybe I'm just a leftist
CobWebs
Penning this down with eyes watery
Ardra TJ
In my search for band-aids
The pain grips me, a heavy hand,
Ardra TJ
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Be it the overflow of words, that gets me tongue-tied when the heart isn't at peace,the sea of thoughts that hits me in waves,making sure I don't sink down all at once, a lush bouquet of flowers to soothe the aching senses my soul houses, the sound of thin air, rushing past my ears,as if to pass on some treasured message to somebody afar by ages. Afar by ages? How do I deal with the ache in my heart as I voice out the phrase? - "afar by ages"!
Ardra TJ
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Random?
Ardra TJ
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Long hours of toiling,
Ardra TJ
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Today, I saw a butterfly,
Ardra TJ
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TW; sexual assault
Ardra TJ
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There, she sat on the terrace-floor,
Ardra TJ
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Two roads diverged in a wood,
Ardra TJ
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I paced in through the darkness;
Ardra TJ
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Walking down the dusty lane,
Ardra TJ
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The world mumbled into her Tiny ears,
Ardra TJ