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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 ...

The Road Was My Own

Into the forest..
As I walked..
The trees looked down at me.
I could see..
My feet chasing the ground.
Soul stretch …
Was the naked sketch.
Of voices that surround.
The unsaid words..
That I never heard..
Was a fleet filled with birds.
Childhood hugging…
Falsehood bugging..
Left inside..
Was the sweat trickling below..
Making an attempt to sort narrow..
But forever shallow.
Defining virtue..
Over needy leaves…
Tip toeing into dry crumple..
Stumbled on a stone..
While thunder erode..
Refusing the turn..
As eyes got wet..
Took the wrong road..
That I went alone..
Was definitely my own.

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