it may not always be so; and i say
that if your lips,which i have loved,should touch
another’s,and your dear strong fingers clutch
his heart,as mine in time not far away;
if on another’s face your sweet hair lay
in such silence as i know,or such
great writhing words as,uttering overmuch,
stand helplessly before the spirit at bay;

if this should be,i say if this should be—
you of my heart,send me a little word;
that i may go unto him,and take his hands,
saying,Accept all happiness from me.
Then shall i turn my face,and hear one bird
sing terribly afar in the lost lands

Oh yes it is really sad,
No job, so he is mad,
No more particular choice,
Just any job,will be glad !

A lot of forms will have to fill ,
End result remains always "nil",
Friends ,family always grill,
finding job, a task uphill !

But oh boy, don't give up hope,
Hold your grip on the rope,
You are a big born fighter,
Will you give up, never, nope !!

Who said you're good enough?
You're not beautiful
Well, maybe, if you just tried
To walk straight
With your hair straight
Always smiling
Stomach tucked in
With your thighs at a safe distance from each other
But not far enough for someone to make their way through
Why were your legs open?
Why was your button open?


Maybe this is why you don't have friends.
You have opinions.
Why are you seeking God anywhere else but
A temple
A mosque
A church?
God says you're beautiful only if He can see you.
Maybe that's why you're not beautiful.

No one is looking at you because you're beautiful.
They look at you because you're a freak,
A circus phenomenon
You're on display
But in all the wrong ways
With your sides hanging
And your back in everyone's faces.
How dare you impose?

Stop being yourself.
**** yourself.
Build yourself up.
But, don't forget to go through the instruction manual.

countless voices
cry to life
the giver
seeking, begging
give us
'more, more
and yet more',
till they hear
life saying,
'I shall give
when I receive'.

between life and death
life stares
and so do we
silence and sound
we ask each other
' what did we give?'

He is a storm
and storms devastate,
but every time he hurts you,
you hold your breath
and bear the hurricane;
repeating to yourself
One more chance
One more breath
just one more,
and you'll fix him

Until one day you can't
hold your breath anymore,
and you are half a stormy evening,
one tear stained night,
two minutes and five seconds
away from breaking down,

And you realize,
you cannot fix  anyone,
not until you fix  yourself.