Chapters Of My Life!

Every book has good and bad chapters.

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She walked along the pages of her book

And her footsteps wrote the words of her book.

She danced and drew and doodled around too

Her book was something special and different too.

And then she grew old and met people new

Who stayed for a few pages and then someone new.

Some stayed quite long and some held a little time

Some turned her book into a teardrop and some made it sublime.

She traveled and added pictures to the story

She had to much to say but now she created history.

Every book has chapters good and bad

She experienced them all and I’m glad.

She played along the pages of her book

And her footsteps wrote the words of her book.

Death!

The only thing that can bring an end to everything, every task, every relationship all at once, is mortality.

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I’ve never considered death as a menace

I’m sure death too caries immense grace.

But what if it came tomorrow to me?

What if I know it’s coming to me?

Tough to react to a situation like that right?

Especially after all this glorious fight?

The fight to live better and rise with hope

The fight to get somewhere after a slippery slope?

Well, life was tough too but it always had beginnings

Even after loss it gave us too many innings.

Because, we were alive to see the next morning

To wake up to live a new day so adorning.

What would you do to make today special if it were last?

What would you forget and who would you forgive in your last?

Whom would you thank and whom would you kiss?

Whom would you give your life’s treasure and whom would you miss?

What would you eat and what would you wear?

Whom would you tell that you always did and still will care?

Well, do it now, for tomorrow never dies

And never comes a time to realize.

Realize that life is too short no matter how long it gets

It’s a blessing each day, no matter how tough it gets.

Begin today because an end has no story

Death isn’t evil but make it look like glory.

The Letter Book!

Yet so much to say and convey!

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Years ago, I came into the practice of writing letters

Since words were my best friends, they made the best happiest letters.

I loved stamping and posting letters to friends and family

As a kid I loved pasting some stickers or some sort of smiley.

At times I used to get replies, at times I’d write letters to myself

I would write them yearlong and hide them for my birthday in some shelf.

Soon we got into the habit of emails and got busier with life

More than fun, now typing truly felt like a huge strife.

Learning how to type words at first was quite interesting

But losing my letters to emails was quite distressing.

Sooner or later I realized my words felt better on paper with ink

In my hand writing, with neatness and at times the smell of ink.

I felt my fingers hurt to type the smallest of phrases

I wanted to hear the scribbles than the keyboard key noises.

It was amazement at start to get replies at an instant of a second

But I longed for my letter replies, that made me happy each second.

Yes, technology moved way faster getting better advancements for us

But it also took some little pleasures away thus.

I still write letters and post them until the postman has a job

For someday I know, there’d be no books or inks for my job.

For someday, someone won’t cry reading my letter

That day, an email too would lie unread, while it would be a love letter.

Restrictions!

“The only limits in our life are those we impose on ourselves.”

– Bob Proctor

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New adventures and roads await

For us to travel and open our gate.

New life, new smiles, new songs

And we’re stuck in the rights and wrongs.

New moments each day, a new picture to click

A new hair color maybe, a new side flick.

A newer resolution that comes from the heart

A brand new celebration for a live dream to start.

Another tour or sketch or dress to make

Another millionaire to the world, a new remake.

A truth that can’t be hidden, a life to live again

No limit, no brake, just rack your brain.

A new injury too maybe with more new courage

A new way of becoming one’s own age.

It’s a nice beginning to think of and live by

Just smile and twinkle, sometimes cry but just to fly.

Enough!

You are just what you need to be.

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Changes, choices, decisions…

Are these your visions or collisions?

“Oh she looks so pretty!”

Wish I was more like her than being witty.

Wish I could wear that dress and walk like that

Wish I could go places far just like that.

Why don’t they talk to me, am I so unworthy?

I’m unfit, trying to fit in here, become some worthy.

So uninterested they are! Am I that imperfect?

What does the world need? What is “Perfect”?

Are dreamers inappropriate of being wise?

What’s flawed and incorrect in this world up-size?

Why does one need to prove their wit?

Why do they judge and not perceive, what’s their wit?

What’s individuality, if everyone’s the same sort of classy?

And who here is kind enough and not like glassy?

What have they got to do with who I am?

Why am I a question in their exam?

No matter what? They’re now in for a question too tough!

For whoever I am. I am just enough!

It’s All About The Story!

“There comes a time when you have to choose between turning the page and closing the book.” – Josh Jameson

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We all face the adversity of life and usually it seems quite unfair

Most of the times, we can’t improve the situation or repair.

We can’t go back in time to live again or rectify

In some moments we can’t even perceive or identify.

In those moments it’s difficult to know what to do

Whether to go on or turn around and say adieu.

This time it’s so tough that you don’t wish to take another step

For each step so far too seems just like a misstep.

You don’t know what’s worse and you seem to know no glory

It’s all about the story.

The Extra Mile!

Most of the times, we feel we lack time. We can’t do the things we quite wish to do.

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I wish I could pick the pencil up and just scribble

You may feel like you need a break to do the dribble.

Sometimes it’s an urge to get a new pen and write

Someone out there wants to go to the ring to fight.

One of us just needs a break to swing

Some want to pray or eat or dance or do their thing.

While all of us are caught up in the rush of our lives

There’s something that still deprives.

A part of ourselves is missing somewhere

While we’re just running around here and there.

I want solve my jigsaw puzzle

Or hug him tight and nuzzle.

It’s just an extra mile not the lack of time

Let’s do it to create something sublime.