You hide your pain under the cloak of anger,
It makes you look harder and stronger
But be prepared for your emotions to be dismissed
No matter how deeply you were hurt,
You will barely exist.

But with anger, the pain doesn’t really go away.
In fact, it begins to set up camp for its stay.
For it makes it easier for those who have wronged you to say
That you’re crazy and you had no right anyway.

So instead, cry.
Let the pain flow outside.
Don’t lie
About how strong you are or how you’ll be alright.
If then you don’t get the nurturing your pain deserves from others
Be your own protector, your own mother.

Hold yourself in your able arms,
Don’t numb your pain with an angry storm

-

After all these years,
I still play our movie in my head.

The first time you held my hand,
I knew we couldn't take a step back, but only move ahead.

The first time we kissed on my terrace,
We were only kids back then, but it was respectful and filled with grace.

The first time we fought,
I was just hungry, but you came to spoil me with all you got.

The first time you shed a tear,
When I was leaving the city, but you'd always be near.

The first time I let you go,
I didn't realize I didn't know
That after all these years I'd still play our movie in my head.
And I'd regret all the things left unsaid.
Somedays I barely want to get out of my bed.
Because no matter how much I play it on repeat,
And go over every beat.
I know it's incomplete.
This movie of ours.

-

Imagine this:
You're everywhere.
The whole universe
Rise above your atmosphere.

Get out of your mind
Into the world,
Float above the skies and hear the winds blow loud.
Get out of your way,
And dig under your crust
Smell the earth and feel the dust.

Dive deep into the galaxy,
Yourself, your innermost beauty.
Or smile and play with your inner beast.
Either way, meet yourself halfway atleast.

-

The road is long,
and we've made a stop.
There's silence even in songs,
Right around the drop

We wonder why we're here,
For a moment we listen
To what our hearts really want
And what our souls have been wishing

For money or meaning?
To make a name or a difference?
To rise above each other, or soar together?
Is it competition, inspiration, or influence?

We look around for a moment,
At the magicians and dancers
And feel alive at these crossroads,
as we feel our hearts beat.
But we walk on, and somewhere forget,
Our formerly found answers,
Until we're back at such crossroads,
and feeing it all on repeat.

-

All I ever wanted was for us to lie in bed...
Spark a Jo that spells out the million things unsaid
But you were always cold, thinning, ice upon which I slowly and softly tread.
So I'm leaving you this bowl of joy, I don't need to be your toy,
Boy,
I'm leaving you in bed.

-

I knew someone who belonged to everyone
He was the king and the beggar.
He was a mystery to the moon and the Sun
But he always knew himself better.

He was the familiar killer, the moonwalking thriller,
He broke his dance down for the people to see
That black is white and white is black
Cause all is grey and grey is all can be.

And in that greying mystical haze,
Above the other five, Micheal rose.
You may call him bad, or positively mad
But his voice was divine, and it healed the world.

Do you remember the time when we thought him invincible?
When no matter what came his way, he could beat it?
Now he's gone too soon to a place with no name
So we listen to the best of joy, and repeat it.

-

Mountains are like
The sky
Deep, dense, and amazingly high.
To climb a mountain is to dream
of everything you were denied
And realise
That you could easily have it if you really tried.

Mountains are like
Home
To those who don't know where else they belong
Or whom to call their own.
The wildcats and the lone wolves
The mountains tame them like a father whips a son
And feed them like their mama does her child in her womb.

Mountains are like
God
Their meandering paths and their shapes so odd
Through the tricks and risks you can't help but applaud
At this creation.
An agent of involuntary meditation
To know yourself is true devotion
To nature, to people, to God
And the mountains.

-

How can we dream of freedom when our body is made of cells?

-

“Paper, paper everywhere”
Replacing your napkin and your silverware
Forget plastic, here’s a bag you can tear
Apart from its mother trunk.
They said murder less, plant more but who cares?
You want more paper? You’re in luck.

Recycle it and if not, print on it a useful thought
Of news and stories significant, lose the vanity fairs.
May it be painted on and framed,
Or turned into a document appropriately named
For a blank piece of paper can sure stare

At you, making you wonder what brings you the privilege
To kill a tree, extract its pulp, and pollute the air.
So now let's come up with a use for it,
To justify this sacrilege,
For when we face the holy shortage,
And we'd confess our injustice to our "gods" in prayer,
We must be prepared for the one true God of nature to say
"There will be no more water or paper anywhere.”

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