A day will come,
When he will rise up,
From sleep of thousand days.
Will rub the sleep off his eyes,
To see beyond the haze.
But all he would see faint memories of the days.
Will try to hold on something that's already gone away.
But all he would get is an empty life, too hard for a person to live.
Will strain his ears to listen to the sweet songs of old times.
But all he would listen is the silence at the place.
Will weep for days to come,
And spend his days in cage.
A day will come,
When he will sleep for eternal rest.

A calm place, soft music, sounds of chatter,
two tables, few cups of coffee,
and some friends, a dare and a handsome man is all you require to start a new friendship.

Coincidentally, he's a rival at college.
A few meetings at cafeteria, smiles and greetings exchanged.

An approach from either side,
A hearty talk from both sides,
A witty remark, giggles and two cups of vanilla is all you need for friendship to start.

A healthy competition, discussions on machines, an idea contradicted, a furious fight to prove other wrong, ending in laughs.

Music classes by him, a song sung for her, claps and whistles, few blushes and lots of love.

A silly typed bond, a ball pen, many terms and condition, two signatures and friendship sealed forever.

A misunderstanding, blames, fights, cries, repenting on both sides, solitude, dysphoria, friends reconciled.

Few years, jobs, busy schedules, pending work, tensed mind, a break from normal life, a phonecall, an airplane ticket, a familiar face, tears of joy and old friendship revives.

There are some easy steps to make a friend,
But the easiest is to trust someone.

There's a storm in my teacup,
An ache in my head,
A plethora of words,
That are better unsaid.

There's a monster inside me,
That never stops speaking,
Though I try to control,
The havoc it's seeking.

You think I'm a good person,
But I do not agree,
My friend: you only judge me,
Based on what you can see.

I could write the loveliest poem ever,
A lonely dove went cooing by and by,
Yonder rill, yonder hill, yonder river,
Whilst it winged into a clear blue sky.
Lovely is the sky in her robes of blue,
Velvety blue I mean, as eyes of thine
Never bestowed upon any seraph,
That upon my soul kindled love divine.
I could croon the loveliest tune ever,
And whisper it upon rivers of time;
That fairly stream by and by forever,
A tune that in thy heart could ever chime,

  If only I could glance at thy bright eyes
  To once stray upon shores of paradise.