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The Little Things

*pic courtesy from pinterest  The little things the little smile the little flower in the corner aisle the little butterfly catches my eye along with  the hovering bee like sketches drawn in the sky look at the little ant fleet just close to my feet the little spider takes a warm seat the little girl who hops on the broken tile while her mother looks right across  the street from a mile I wave at her she waves back the little gestures the little fingers the little spider continues to linger the little heartbeats as humming treats while I pick up the little crumbs from my bread last night

Different

Normal.., you are right..
You win every fight.
You smirk at other people’s plight.
You talk smart..
Making convoluted gestures.
You paint colors..
Disregarding the theme.
Mark faces on the basis of skin..
Snob around the crowd going thin.
Look up to people who peep through windows..
Childishly defering sorrows.
Acting like the shot dart..
Making the center but torn apart.
Faking heart ache for spectacular’s sake.
You mock wierd..
Laugh smeared.
Your reflection coincide..
With no kingdom pride.
But Normal gets forgotten the moment you leave the stage..
Unheard as soon as you try to leave the cage.
Days are the same..
But your words echo lame.
Promises being bundled into empty carts..
Perhaps the way you end even before it starts.
While Different..
Figures out.
Though mostly in doubt.
Loud noises seems muse..
Doesn’t demand or accuse.
Tried at the least..
So what if loose.
Choose the wrong..
Start again strong.
They snooze..
Doze off.
Stand still..
Wait up.
For almost all the reasons..
Cause being different..
Is you learning..
To canvas out every gradient.
Without giving up silently.

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