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Incarcerated minds; Limitless dreams,
Beamish hopes fragile,
Life unravels at the seam.
A bag full of responsibilities,
Leading towards the cross paths
An indomitable soul ambles,
leaving behind indelible memories.

New places; New opportunities,
Yet rays of despair beam
Soul surrounded by men yet ostracized,
and melancholy gleam.
Caged hopes remain the souvenir for life,
Insomniac soul rises strong,
Pausing mundane interlude.
#Dreams #Reality #lastwish
I was told happiness is ubiquitous,
Growing up, found it to be scarce-
Like a desert's mirage.
I was told men love once,
Growing up, realised it happens sporadically-
Like a drizzle's dance.
But when did I actually grow up?
Was it when my heart ached for beauties all around
Or when it was limerence that I sought?
A companion to cherish.
Perhaps it was the solitary confinement
When truth whispered softly in the dark,
That growing up is not about success and failure
Rather a journey of life embracing life's unknown adventures.
#Childhood #memories #teenage #adulthood
I dreamt of roses in a barren desert,
Dreams frivolous, unraveled at the seam.
Yet Whispers linger where the sands abide,
I let go them in a sagacious ray of beam.

Unimpeded thoughts startled to awake,
marking a way for Tabula Rasa!
In boundless voids, new visions start to gleam,
A clean slate, where spirit writes its name.
Tales of life
Beneath the flickering of a streetlight’s glare,
Her shadow sways, a monster in the midnight air.
No words exchanged, just minutes of horrendous lust—
She buries dreams that the world discards as dust.

Her heels cling the cracked concrete, defying strength,
Each step feels like a mountain, too high to climb.
They find joy in loud moaning, homicide, and cigarette butts,
But none of them want to hear the anthem she actually sings.

In solitude, she dreams of a sky unbound,
Of fields where her soul can amble and run free—
A writer, an activist, a doctor,
A gleaming star that runs over rudimentary scars.

Yet again the night arrives, the golden cage of her life,
Each stranger denudes, defying her inner scream.
She looks at the mirror, at the dark—
A ray of hope screaming to the walls: “I am more than this body, a glaring star!”
Whispers of the vulnerable prostitutes forced into s*x work ......

— The End —