You were supposed to give of yourself--
Your angel dust was dragon fire;
*The spark to her funeral pyre.

'Life is still a blank canvas', he said.

So she told him to paint a house.
All fenced up,
And to color the grass extra green.
(So that temptation wouldn't court him)

'Why that picture?', he asked.

She replied, *'Because no matter where you go,
Your roots should always bring you home.'

'Because even if the sky is the limit,
And you reach it, the greenest grass
Even from way up above,
will always be your beacon.'

'Because change should be a shade vibrant,
Only then change could mean growth.'

'Because that home you build,
Will be your resting place.
After you've conquered your dreams--
It'll be your place of ease.'

'And', she said, 'because marks and goals
are set first,
the course decided later.
Lastly, *because those pictured endings,
are the best place to begin.'

To be beautiful
Is to be almost dead,
Is it not?

Your voice is never heard,
'Cause your face talks too loud...

I hate who they think I am,
And as a result, I hate them.
That's why I don't like a lot of people--
*You see, it's their fault!

my phone beeped
in an almost deserted train compartment.
my boss,
'where have you reached?'
I sighed and replied,
'should reach in 5'
(would reach in 20)
same old dance
to the tune of corporate slavery.

a sharp sound,
I looked up.
the sound dissolved
into a fit of giggles.

a group of kids
playing around, teasing,
their mother close by;
a hawker, selling trinkets in the train.

it looked so natural.
a working mum
looking after her kids while on the job
(doesn't work that way does it?
guess they didn't have anywhere safe
without her)

I couldn't look away.

it was such a sight...
torn, tattered clothes
dirt and mud all over
and those innocent giggles;
it didn't add up.

I was tired, aching,
infatuating about sleep;
feet bleeding in killer heels,
rushing around without purpose,
forced into an exploitative overtime job
by myself; frustrated,
trying to keep up with society.

the little family
calm, collected;
torn, tattered smiles held with grace,
facing their exploitative poverty
with innocent mischief and honest labour.

confused,
I had a thought:
that's the life they've known,
this is the life I've known.
we fit in our lives...
differently?

no...
we fit in different lives in the same way.
I struggle she struggles,
we both have good bad days.

I didn't realize I was smiling
till she smiled back.

I bought something
and got off at the next stop,
wishing she has more good days than bad
and the kids keep their giggles
a little longer than they can..

Sitting near the window pane,
I know I'm going insane.
Outside flies the vehicles so fast,
I know I'm left aghast.

Thinking how time flies so quick,
I know I can no more think.
Just when I feel the breeze,
Reality makes me freeze.

Gone are the days I live,
For now i feel i just survive.
People leave and people come
But I know I left a mark on some.

Am i confused? Am I sad?
Am I anxious? Am I glad?
Am I lonely? Am I doubtful?
All these aside, I know I'm hopeful.