The clouds;
Big, white and stout,
Spread carelessly
Like cotton candy churning out.
They lie on an azure canvas;
Bounded with the faraway hills ,
In a holy union
Officiated by Mother Nature
After a night of plight.
The green landscape runs wild;
Residencies sprouting throughout.
This view from high above
Is the kind they write poems about.
Couldn’t get out of bed today;
With the summer sky shrouded in gray.
Slept like a baby till nine;
Hoping the clock would just rewind.
Couldn’t find the motivation;
The gloomy day robbed me of my inspiration.
A gentle breeze nudges my dressing gown.
The rustling leaves echo in my hometown.
The birds are chirping a song-like-tune.
The sun slowly disguises itself as the moon.
The drizzle seeps into my window frame;
Soon, I was dozing to the sound of pouring rain.
**I don’t usually write nature poems and this is my second attempt at it. I hope I did it justice.**
Why do I keep coming back to you? Is it because I have too much respect for you? Or is it because I have too little for me?
I’ve been around for far too long, you know? Four years.
Four fucking years.
And I still don’t know you. What’s going on with you? How do you feel? You won’t tell me and even if you did, you’d be lying through your teeth.
What I wouldn’t give for you to become the man I met long ago. I took you for a shy introvert. Foolish me didn’t know the plots you were planning in that pretty little head of yours. Planning to hit me with just the right amount of compliments and insults to keep me around.
And it worked. I stayed. Everytime you demeaned me and then made the right amount of apologies, I thought to myself, “Maybe he misspoke. Maybe he was joking. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.”
Why do I keep making excuses for you, lying to myself? Deep down, I know you don’t care for me. But I’ve stuck around. I’ve invested too much time in you to leave ‘us’ behind. Is this my fate?
Why do I have sympathy for you when you are clearly in the wrong? I know your sorry doesn’t mean squat. I think I’m making you stronger every time I find my way back to you. Why do I do this when I know you’ll hurt me again?
You’re in my head. I’m begging you to get out. You’re influencing every decision of mine. Every step, every turn, you’re forcing me to make; it’s costing me my soul.
I have to go now. I have to hurry or I’ll become a part of you. I have to leave or you’ll never let me.
“There are dreamers and there are realists in this world. You’d think the dreamers would find the dreamers, and the realists would find the realists, but more often than not, the opposite is true.
Cameron Tucker, Modern Family
See, the dreamers need the realists to keep them from soaring too close to the sun.
And the realists?
Well, without the dreamers, they might not ever get off the ground.”
I’ve always loved this quote. And have always resonated with the unapologetic dreamers of this world. The ones with their heads up in the clouds; the ones who think they can move any mountain; the ones with ambitions waiting to be turned into realities.
And trust me, I get where the realists are coming from. The world is a cruel place and not everyone can get what they want and have to make with what they have. But you can never soar high if you are afraid of flying, right? And even if the dreamers fail, they’ll find the courage and confidence to dream again. They won’t ever give up and come to terms with the world’s truth, instead they’ll make the world bow down.
I’ve dreamt about love, comfort and happiness, small towns and big families. I don’t know if I’m worthy enough to actually get that but that doesn’t deter me from planning ahead. It paves way for my actions, to becoming a doer.
As my father always says, “Take your time to dream for you’re only eighteen.“
Prose And Poetry 