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Not In Straight Line

*pic courtesy - painting taken from pinterest. I am telling you I am not perfect My bed is messed up all day long I have been said I am nothing but wrong My voice cracks open a tragic song My closet has clothes that don't fit me There are times when even my dog doesn't sit with me I am telling you Life is not supposed to be.. What you want to see.. I have been thrown out, shouted at, made fun of,  everytime I want to change and be free.. I have been called arrogant, stupid, mad, with ideas that shatter... I discovered things that no one in the room thought but only if it could matter.. I am telling you That people aren't perfect and nor they will ever be... If you wait for them to align You will be the one being struck out of line Don't think every criticism is fine Some are horrific with absurd design So what if I am not perfect I can tell that imperfection is abstract Breaking the rules is not nodding to solicitations I have tried, failed, then tried back ...
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Broken Pieces

Broken pieces scattered all over..
As I start collecting some pierce through.
A red drop trickles..
As my skin chuckles.
But tears take precedence.
Not even once those pieces lie,
Everywhere they sit and cry.
Melancholy should be self explanatory.
I pick them up as they prick..
To indefinite souls they stick.
Weak as they have fallen,
Spoilt yet defensive.
Wet but not mourning,
Looking at each other..
They start holding up one another.
Stagger yet sober,
Shadows gather,
But couldn’t walk any further.
Sit through the night..
Untimely awoken.
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