#AnotherLeaflet

This is another poem that I wrote during my tenure as a content writer, in the first company. Though there’s no particular significance to the poem, I just penned down thoughts as they came. I hope you enjoy reading this, just as you liked the previous one.

Life Without You…
It’s hard to explain in words, how I feel without you…

Walking on the street, reminiscing the past,
Even in a crowd I feel so alone,
Feels like yesterday,
But it’s been awhile since you are gone,
Your absence has left a gaping wound in my heart,
Seems like my world has been ripped apart,
In the darkness of the night,
When the whole world is lost in slumber tight,
I sit by the window, allowing tears to stream,
Listening to my heart in pain and sorrow, scream
Pondering over what went wrong and where,
Thinking of the things you never wanted to share.

Faking smiles, so that the world won’t know,
The hurt, the pain I try not to show,
No matter wherever I am, whatever I do, 
Everyday is a battle, I struggle to go through,
I find myself always thinking of you,
Looking back at the times we were together,
Basking in immaculate love and care,
Brings a smile and a wish you were still there,
How do I explain, what do I tell,
To make you understand that I’m going through hell,
I wish you could know how it hurts me,
To think of a life without you…

#ALeaflet

My first job was that of a content writer. Writing about different subjects under the sun, I knew this was what I wanted to do. No matter my job was out of the league (not an engineer, neither a doc, nor an MBA), I found my niche. This job gave me the flexibility to explore my creative side too. The poem below is one that I wrote five years ago, just like that, and I did receive some good reviews. Thought I’d share with you too.

Were You Genuine?
Sometimes, things are not the same as they are portrayed…
Never had I known, would our paths cross again,
Meeting you, I realized you are still the same,
I thought I’d be walking the path alone,
But with you by my side, I always feel at home,
I want you in my life,
Just like a desert needs the rain,
Like an answer to my prayer,
I knew, I could turn to you,
You told me you’ll always be there.

Whatever I felt, whatever I wanted to share,

I found myself secure in your unfeigned care,
I had so much to tell, so much to ask,
But then I found we were slowly drifting apart,
A feeling that rent my heart,
I thought we would be like this forever,
But you made me realize this was just a dream,
You left, leaving my questions unanswered,
Now all I can ask is – ‘Were You Genuine?’

#TrueLies

This piece was influenced by a friend who told me her experience. And I thought why not try a hand at poetry, for a change. So here goes…

 

Lonely in my head,

I feel so low,

Hiding the hurt and pain,

No one will ever know.

My eyes feel so tired,

Staying awake, spending sleepless nights,

Your face still haunts my dreams,

You are all I see when I turn out the light.

My world shattered so suddenly,

It happened so fast,

I knew all at once,

That none of this would last.

Was I just a game?

Was this all just for fun?

Did my feelings even matter,

To you who were ‘The One’?

I hold my head high,

As I walk by your side,

Though silent tears well up,

And I am slowly dying inside.

Days, weeks, and months have passed,

Keeping secrets, telling lies,

I don’t have the strength,

To look either of them in the eye.

My heart has been broken,

Not once, but twice,

Once by my best friend,

And once by his true lies.

#Writer’sLife

 

WRITER

Tired Eyes. Brain hitting a road block. Thinking process comes to a standstill. “Write” seems like an abuse. Signs of a writer’s block? Yes, it is!

As I sit typing this, I can literally feel my eyes popping out and hitting the keyboard. Being a writer though an exciting job, can be a bit taxing too. The amount of words that the poor brain has to create! Every single day! With mugs and mugs of coffee to keep awake, and the walks to ignite thoughts does help. Going back to the desk, stretching fingers, and attacking the keyboard with renewed vigor (of course being plugged in at the moment), you finally manage to belt out some good content, the satisfaction showing in your smile.

Oh that and the OCD streak of getting your message in place, sans mistakes. Checking, rechecking, for God knows how many times. Firing off the content and yet thinking if there’s something that might have been left out. Going back to the published draft and checking for the umpteenth time, if there’s a mistake. And guess what! You actually find one, sticking out like a sore thumb, leaving you thinking how on earth could you have missed this one out. Whoever said a writer’s job was that of a glorified steno should give a hand at writing, serious-to-God writing, and not just some copy-paste. Easy to be judgmental but not easy being a writer!

And then there’s the other side of life, where you spend time poring over pages of some many novels. Living life literally out of the pages is fun. Reading some other’s writer’s work, imagining stepping into his shoes of what he might have thought before penning this down is a joy in itself. Self-contained! Experienced only when experiencing! Two different worlds, gelled into one!

People always say that the grass is greener on the other side. But No Sir! I love my lawn the way it is! I have found my calling, and I intend to stick to it, no matter how many episodes of OCD or blocks I suffer or whoever says anything. I’m glad that I’m over the phase, thanks to music and the support of some dear buddies (who I know are reading this piece). Well hopefully now I can start a slow stream of musings, as and when I feel like. (Psst, I went through this draft five times before I posted it).

Life of a writer, a roller coaster ride!

(Image Credit: Google)