Failure.
Failure. The one word that scares me. Failure makes me feel worthless, powerless, utterly useless. But I try to brace myself before it strikes. If I have even the slightest doubt in my mind, that failure is in store, I gear up to face the music. If it hits me out of nowhere, and if I'm not prepared, it's harder to find the pieces when you can't anticipate where to look for them. Because failure is an assurance that I will break. Permanently or temporarily depends on it's intensity of course, but being shattered hurts nonetheless. Once the storm passes, I try to glue myself back together, this time trying to build a stronger foundation. So that if and when failure strikes next time, it will be much harder to take me down. Failure teaches me how to build my walls of success. And once I've learnt the best possible way to do so, once I've built the strongest wall, failure gives up, as it just can't take down success. So failure, although painful, helps me become as successful as I can. No pain, no gain, right?
Your soul captured by the photo lens - now fades like the memory of your voice - I would give anything to hear once again.
You left a wound which time will never heal - an absence so great it took my heart along with it - now I am an empty shell of who I once was - pretending I have moved on.
You are a face I want to always remember - yet time is stealing you away from me - memories become hazy - stuck with photos of when we were young.
You are a ghost which will always haunt me - a lost love my heart still searches for - a farewell I will never recover from - a grave my feet refuses to draw me near.
No one
I'm standing in a room full of the people I love. I reach out to talk to someone, but they don't acknowledge me. I turn to try someone else, but they do the same. I scream too get someone's, anyone's attention, but no one looks up. I catch a glint from the mirror and realize that I'm not in it. No one notices that I am not there. I fall too my knees, "Have they all forgotten me".
The Art Of Giving
Little Sarah in rags, digging trash,
Approaches a passerby in a flash,
For her wandering eyes point out
A sliver of hope mixed with doubt.
At the mere sight of the bony girl,
The man shouts ‘Leave me alone’
She follows him with longing eyes
Until he threatens her with loud cries,
“I’m not giving you any money,
Go away or you’ll be sorry!”
The poor girl accepts her fate
And lives on in a world of hate.
One dark and gloomy night,
Under the bright moon light,
Peter ventures out for a jog,
When he hears a distressed sob
Addressing his undeniable curiosity,
He looks around with enquiry,
Until he spots a homeless teenager
On a pavement near a stinky sewer.
There lies Sarah with tangled hair,
Her skin so dark devoid of care,
With red eyes screaming for help
And sorrow etched on her entire self.
Agonized, troubled and disturbed by her helpless state,
Peter buys food from a stall and gives her the plate,
The gift of love seems so superficial and unreal
That Sarah stands staring in wonder at the meal.
The kind man’s reassuring smile of purity,
Restores poor Sarah’s faith in humanity.
We walk around and proceed with our lives,
Never stopping nor caring about others’ plights,
For success cash and pride,
The whole world strives
But is this the right path for you and I?
If a single plate of food given in love
Can affect a person’s life somehow
Bringing immeasurable happiness,
Driving away feelings of sorrow and helplessness
Then why oh why don’t we try
To spread our ‘wings of giving’ and fly?
Be it an insignificant crayon or a favourite toy,
If given to one in need, invokes their joy
The act of giving heals both young and old
Its miraculous powers are a thing to behold.
People are channels of love and kindness
Without our will to give, there is only darkness
Perfecting the marvelous art of giving
Will make the world a place of exuberant living
Perfection is unattainable without practice
It's time we make selfless giving a habit!