39 results for '-YumnaU.'
To the dreams I once dared to dream,
to the images pasted up my sleeves.
To the hopes filled in the heart,
to the insecurities drilled in my soul.
I have no answer to quench your need.
I have no supplies to build some faith.
What I have is..
This out of habit , habit of mine.
The desperate attempts to make them rhyme.
Consumed by exams.
Are all my brain-programs.
Still the desires to fly resides.
I wonder whether the wings will ever take that slide.
Down where it has everything to which it belongs.
Patience is what my self conscience's only song.(more)
Weren't best friends meant forever?
Didn't we take gazillions of oaths?
Wasn't amazement all in us when some best friends broke apart?
Weren't we not supposed to break our hearts?
Weren't we supposed to understand each other?
More likely, weren't we NOT supposed to let our boyfriends come between us?
But you did..
You my A and I your B?
Now it's all a waste of memory,
the memories you gave.(more)
Nothing can unleash the frustation jailed inside.
At least for now stop trying to make me decide.
This cloud of anger must burst on you.
The effects of which I'll have to suffer.
Hence let it boil itself to steam in me.
As I will be as fine as I have ever been!(more)
Numb; staring blankly at the ceiling.
I wish to feel no more.
The coldness to spread in my veins.
I wish to think no more.
As feelings and thoughts are interconnected to my you.
I wish to have no you no more.
Have begged enough for you.
I wish to beg no more.(more)
Clock tick by sluggishly,
as if it knows I want it to rush.
But there it is, right infront of me.
As stubborn as me perhaps.
Giving me what I give the world.
Don't you dare show me that!
Who is going to bring that stupid needle back to life?(more)
Seeing the bright sky fading to darkness.
The flying birds looking for landing.
The tired human race shutting the doors.
The profiting plant getting ready to excrete.
All my mind longs for
is an owl that never sleeps.(more)
Don't think I'm a broken little bird.
I'm only taking sometime growing my feathers.
Learning to mend the fallen ones on the way.
The more I hurt, the more I piece back together.
I'm not glum.
Melancholy has long gone like the winters.
I'm just taking my time learning to fly high.
high comes by starting low.(more)
Wrapped in her wrap of emotions.
She walks with soles of doubt.
Sure of hiding her scars of life.
She is blind enough not to see them in their eyes.
They see, they talk.
She can't help but ignore.
And walk ahead prohibiting the roots of turning back to grow.
Cause turning back, will give rise to thorns.
Which will haunt her throughout.(more)
Not to forget the never ending pain.
And much more that I'll never confess.
Are the ingredients of my bad days.(more)