Passion

I have been fighting these tears--on the brink tears.

Fighting all the too loud questions and the fears.

It seems to be déjà vu all over for me again.

Just after flushed happiness comes the pain.

I’d said to myself a long ago that I wouldn't do this.

But here I am, betrayed by my latent wishes.

The questions stay bottled up inside.

Pounding my head; relief only when I’ve cried.

All the doubts in my mind are killing me.

What keeps you silent? When I need you to feel me.

Slowly a yawning hole is opening in my soul.

It’s only a matter of time before its shows in my eyes.

I hope you know what you want, no mistake.

Its only love that lasts, the passion pales in its wake.

When you’ve made up your mind, knock on my door.

But the door closes behind you, so you gotta be sure.

If it isn’t love, I won’t hold you to anything

But beyond this point, there is no going back.

Jaded Naivety

I got so tired of these damned clichés in my poem,

So thought of getting rid of every one of ‘em

What are rules made for, if not to be broken?

What is a heart made for, if not pieced apiece?

So I say: ‘what the hell, grab the moment and run free’.

There are things like deadlines, priorities and commitment.

And then there are things like strawberry wafers, things pleasant.

What are rules made for, if not to be broken?

What is a heart made for, if not pieced apiece?

I’m done with the ‘what if’s and the ‘why not’s.

So something’s gonna hurt. But you still do it anyway.

Coz it’s forming a part of now, tomorrow’s memory’s cachet.

What are rules made for, if not to be broken?

What is a heart made for, if not pieced apiece?

Giving free run to my imagination, the string-less kite.

And he made it so that we couldn’t even be friends.

And she’s become a candle that burns both its ends.

What are rules made for, if not to be broken?

What is a heart made for, if not pieced apiece?

So I am letting go of both, hope it gives them hell.

Not that I hate, not that I love; its just that I don’t care.

It had in actuality become too much of a burden to bear.

What are rules made for, if not to be broken?

What is a heart made for, if not pieced apiece?

Something’s remain unbroken, unfortunately perhaps.

Like hope for a new beginning, thinking things will be better.

Knowing most probably they won’t—tomorrow is today’s daughter.

What are rules made for, if not to be broken?

What is a heart made for, if not pieced apiece?

What is life if not spent on foolish naivety?