Scrutiny

As a young boy, I felt a certain sense of nudity,

A sense of self that could be construed, a sort of lunacy.

An expectant state of being judged rather brutally,

A sense of shame that left me void of any dignity.

I felt this way around the people I called my community,

And felt that whenever I appeared, they would leap on the opportunity,

To target my presence and shame my flaws with eager ferocity. 

Now, no longer a boy, I still feel this way with much regularity,

Wondering what could have been, if not for this disparity.

And from this state I desire to wage a zealous mutiny,

Yearning to be free from this state of prolonged captivity.

Will I ever break free from the chains of past hostility?

Will I ever overcome the damage of their spite, their scrutiny?

 

 

 

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Taken in

Where do I begin?

Perhaps, I’ll start with the dream that took me in,

And then perhaps I’ll take it on the chin,

That when reality did set in,

My pride did wear thin.

 

Although being infatuated,

Is no reason to be castigated.

I can’t but feel humiliated,

For being so fascinated.

 

I wish I could say,

That I was never sucked in this way;

That my dignity was always on display,

And that I, on the better side of obsession, did stay.

 

My head has always pleaded for common sense,

Although my heart was hypnotized by your presence.

But I can’t keep making a fool of myself, hence –

To stop dreaming, is of utmost importance.

 

Now, I finally hope to start anew,

And to finally resist thinking of you.

Here’s to hopefully, bidding you ‘Adieu’.

― From the admirer, you never knew.

 

                                                                                                      

 

 

 

Bare

I feel so lacking,

Like a guitar without strings.

I feel so defective,

A bird without wings.

What use can I be,

When I’m a bow with no arrow?

What good is there in being me,

When I’ve lost all joy, and gained only sorrow?

Deja vu

Why do I feel like I’ve been here before?

Stepping onto the porch, in front of Hope’s door.

Hoping to be let in this time, unlike before.

Hoping to be let in this time; to finally explore.

Why do I feel like I’ve been here before?

Maybe, it’s because I have been here before.

Since many a time have I loitered around Hope’s door.

Never to be let in, never getting what I was looking for.

So why do I keep coming here, always hoping for more?

 

Take a holiday

Take a holiday, away from your fears,

And let go of all the unwanted baggage, collected over the years.

Make an effort to avoid the places that you know,

Instead visit new places, if you want to grow.

Turn your back on the thoughts that leave you a mess,

And take the journey on the road, away from distress.

Take a break and seek relief,

And leave behind Worry and Grief.

Make the retreat to a happier place.

Make the move to a happier space.

Let it go

Let it go,

Let go of the goals that leave you void of ambition,

And that mental state so sapping, so wrought with attrition.

Let go of the thoughts that block out the sunshine,

And turn your back on misery, and leave the darkness behind.

Those dark times which leave you feeling empty and sad,

And leave you yearning for the life you could have had.

Let go of the days, that not even your harshest critics recall,

And focus on rising up, instead of your potential fall.

Fragility

You live, somewhere beyond,

Some place, I can’t get to.

My fortitude, does not correspond,

With the place, in which I’m desperate to find you.

I had convinced myself, rather foolishly,

That we’re both of the same kind.

Hoping that by you, I would be loved exclusively,

But who can love one, with such a delicate mind?