A Response

The music sung the ridiculous conditions of our hearts in synchrony

However different we felt from each other,
The unity of our paralyzed lives,
Spoke in a language too familiar

Drunk on moments of happiness,
We drove our sorrows away..

If there is a thing about bus rides-
It is music and its profound meanings
Unknown so long and so far

I don't know if it is easy to fit in,
But I do know what it means
To count on someone
To have someone who understands

"We are all chapters of different stories"
But all these stories are chapters of a larger story
The of each of our lives-
The wonder that keeps strangers weirdly comfortable-
The beauty of unison of hearts-
Not because they love too much
But because they love carelessly and ceaselessly,
Leaving them with no option but to accept depression..

This is my chapter-a chapter which doesn't necessarily have to end
A chapter-I'll love, loathe and remember
A chapter that lives beyond me
Beyond me-in the shape of this poem

So let's put together our difference
And together, let us be uniquely different
Let's live-let's write-let's dance-
Let's drive these sorrows away....

Life's an Amoeba

Oh you glorious, glorious piece of life,
Messed up, shapeless
Forever flowing, locomotive.
You show me who I don't want to be
You tell me the story of my life:
Betrayed and shapeless
Bemused and real
You make me afraid of a past..
How curving and moving away from it,
Would help me get rid of it..

Oh you lovely, lovely piece of life,
You speak of love
Of emotion, beauty, comradeship
So loud, yet unclear
So stark, but indefinite
You speak of love
A love that knows no ends nor means
A love that's just a surviving treat..

Oh you beautiful, beautiful piece of life,
You make me look at you
Like I often look at my mind..
Chaotic and indecisive
Beautiful and kind
And when
Strings of depression and memories,
Of pain and gain,
And of lust and joy
Intermingle-
You confuse me, comfort me
Defy and deny..

Oh you crazy, crazy piece of life,
Above my life and above my mind,
Beyond love, lust and joy,
You look at me, like I'm staring right at the mirror
You are me, a paradoxical definition
Boundless, limitless and forever thirsty
In search of shape that can fit my imperfections completely:
All my curves and edges
You show me who I am-
An insignificant part of a prominent whole,
One of too many of a kind.
Oh you, you expose me-
My insecurities, my blemishes, my faults
My mistakes, my life
And you look me in the eye
Silently screaming, "You are ME."