Dead Poets Society

The Crossed Line

yytfhf kf kufk  gyjg g,g k jkk n

i crossed the first line,
like i try to erase my past.
Never earned a dime,
& gave up when things got hard

I realized, I can't erase it,
whatever the consequences, I need to face it.
And I was fake like Facebook
tried to drop deceiver past,
it tried to hold my hand!!
I helped!
I forgot he's captain hook.

This ship I'm on broke down.
Stuck on this iceberg, facing a meltdown.

cause I melted.
Was soo focused on straight lines,
never noticed they tilted,
Like my life.
I was soo much in the comfort zone,
that living felt like a strife.

the line was still there.
I tried to scramble above it,
now it looks like a stain,
which was not erased and cannot be undone.
I just learned to live with it.

Old Habits

They say we are products of our habits
May be we’re just good people in bad practices
Falling in the easy routes like 
Accepting chess gambits 

We want to change them but We can’t 
Or maybe We want to obliterate them and We won’t 
And maybe 
just maybe this entire process is a habit

We plan to do do things 
We device a schedule 
It’s déjà Vu 
flip some pages to see what written previously 
And see a million plans that remain unfollowed 

We need to break this cycle 
Not tomorrow but today
And if We do it successfully 
Remember there’s always a better way

I said I was a salty salesman
Wearing starched shirts and scaled shoes
I am simple man, a basic struggler
Who can’t speak straight I was a mumbler
I wore a shirt of lies and glasses to hide my cries
Shoes stitched from lizard’s scales
To hype my masculinity
I wanted to be viewed as an alpha male
My Shoes were sound proof
They scrafed my screems
I wanted to shout out loud
But them muffled my dreams
And shirt was super starched
It worked as blanket on my emotions
The way I acted on my goals truly meant
There wasn’t any kind of devotion
The starched shirt hid the wrinkles
They concealed my vanity
I work day and night but I still
Couldn’t hide my obscurity

Say you ask me
what I sell these days
I said nothing much I’m really good at
Selling sickest lies in slickest ways
Usually I say I sell trams but in reality I’m
Stacking several schemes of scams
Selling useless and nonsense things
Serving scraps to simple souls
Showing happiness on outside, sobbing inside
The salty salesmen

I Wanted To Be Like!!!!!! But Now I Don’t

I wanted to be like my baba (my Dad)
Who loves me , who cares for me
But now I don’t want to be like him
I know he loves me
But I Recently realized
He hurts aai (my mom)
He’s changed now but
How can we forget about an abusive alcoholic
I wanted to be like my mother
With a heart full of love
But now I don’t want to be like her
A victim of violence
But recently I realized
She would go through hell for me
But she already went.
She would sacrifice herself for me
But I still won’t want to be like her
I’m afraid I couldn’t take it
I’m afraid I’ll turn into my father
I realize more and more the similarities
And I’m ashamed of it
And if someday when I’m married
And I came to know I am indeed him, I won’t cry
Nor sigh But rather die.
Truths are often harsh
I’ll try my best to be better
And if still that’s not enough
I would kiss goodbye to world,
& it won’t matter
I’ll gladly call myself “the quitter”.

Palindrome Poem

Entering my mind
Thoughts negative
Am I here
>>>>>Noon
nooN<<<<<
Here I am
negative Thoughts
Mind my Entering

THINGS THAT ARE RED

Things That Are Red

The Sun who’s about to set
An Apple crushed in the accident
My toothpaste I used in the morning
Her lipstick kissing the road
Splashed wine from crushed bottle
My T-shirt with stains
Our car which got destroyed
Her blood on the pavement
My bruises which will never be healed
The sirens blinking
Her lips which are torn
And the skies before dawn

Crush

Once I met my old bold crush,

She was pretty, with her hair well brushed,

So I decided to take a vow,

To hold her hand and never let her go,

As I told you I met her once,

Never to see those hair well brushed.

Desolated Warrior (Pentina)

Ferocious Warriors with their Sword,
Fighting with their blood and Soul.
But There is one with a Smile,
Who isn’t afraid of Death.
Who loves being Desolated.

He leaves places Desolated,
He speaks with his Sword.
It speaks of Death,
It asks for a Soul.
With a grim Smile.

This isn’t normal, it’s a vengeful Smile.
Revenge for making his life Desolated.
He searches for his lovers Soul,
filling red fluids for his Sword.
He would trade million lives to please Death.

He thinks he can please Death,
So he could bring back her Smile.
So he is bound to his Sword,
To make kingdoms desolated.
To unite with her Soul.

He takes their hope , their Soul
He takes away their breath, brings Death.
He takes away their love, brings Desolation
He takes away their Pleasure and Smile
He takes away their pride and Sword

Soo Death smiles one day and takes his Soul,
And leaves his Sword Desolated.

i wrote this soo as to participate in August Scavenger Hunt challenge hosted by @murisopsis AKA Val

Here is the link to his blog Post “A Different Perspective “

To Participate in the Poetry Competition I’ve organised

click here “Poetry competition“

To check out my Previous Posts in this Hunt which is a Hay(na)ku and a Abecedarian Poem

Click Here “Hate {Hay(na)ku}“

and Here SELF DISCOVERY ( Abecedarian poem)

Peace

SELF DISCOVERY ( Abecedarian poem)

August Scavenger hunt

Ageing day by day I became younger,
Became more by becoming less.
Contemplating life for what may have been,
Day by day making mess.

Engaging away from foolishness I became a fool,
Following my passion I came close to god.
Going towards God I became nothing,
However realized I am his pod.

In his Inception realizing I’ve forgotten who I am,
Jabbing subconscious I can become him.
Knowing more I understood less,
Lying to myself I became dim.

Mirror is where I found him on my way.
Nothing done here is forgotten,
Our deed’s always paid either tomorrow or today.

Preaching doesn’t help much,
Queue to him is long.
Road to him is through us,
Serving others, I found him in the throng.

Through us he lives first
Understanding him I understood myself,
Vacuuming my mind from dirt.
When you ask me of my relationship with him,
Xenial is what I’ll say.
Yet I found us,
Zero is where we belong.