What a Life

Noises are flooding my head,

Endless thoughts haunting every pore of my being,

Solace is a state that seems foreign to my ear,

Even hearing the sweetest sound makes me restless,

My inner self denies any effort of having things to go right,

I felt suffocated, trapped, breathless.

I wanted quiet, not a madhouse.

I wanted a time for my own, not these.

I wanted a lot of other things that seems impossible to get, especially now.

A little bit of privacy even cost a lot these days.

A little bit of respect being thrown away at me? Impossible as hell.

What else?

What do you want? Go away.

These people just cannot mind their own silly little business.

They just have to butt in and be nosy where they shouldn’t.

I asked not too much. Just a little bit privacy,

  and my own me time where I’m not going to be guilty about.

I’m not used to using crude words. And I don’t plan to.

But right now, a few comes to mind,

  and somehow so persistently bugging me to say them out loud.

Dang it! I felt guilty feeling this way.

Sheesh.  In the end, that’s just it.

My wrath could only be surfaced in this virtual paper.

It’s so short, it should seem fake.

I feel so miserable I could not afford to care.

What a life.

A tale of woe

I have a story waiting to be told,

It’s a tale of woe of a dispirited soul,

It’s a common story, quite centuries old,

It’s a tale of a heart

      that had been left out cold.

She’s a typical girl, not too wise or a big fool,

She lives moderately, stomach always full,

But her heart sometimes aches

as she’s always expected to be cool,

and follows orders sometimes likes a mule.

Days turn to months and months turn to years,

At last she wonders;

   ‘Why do I let slip all these tears?’

     ‘Why am I expected to hold on to this burden?’

go on and on her mind boggling questions

               as she stop for a little while

and makes a lifetime worth of turn.

‘I’m just a girl, a second daughter of six,

I could not afford to be demanding

    Even if I’m sick,

After all the sacrifices I made, heart tied to knot,

I’m still stuck being the sister

 That I know I’m really not.

I wanted to be better, I really tried I do,

But never all of these efforts means anything to you.”

So she wailed and wailed till the time flies by,

And sooner people heard there is a missus that has die,

Not due to measles or fever or poisonous snake,

She died due to a common heartache.

That’s all to it, this tale of mine,

Not that I claimed it’s superbly fine,

It’s just a common tale, quite centuries old,

Waiting and waiting for it to be told,

If you folks who read this,

Could not quite understand,

You just need to open your eyes

but see from inside,

There is always, always someone; like the girl who had died.

Sometimes she's far from you, sometimes quite nearby,

you'll see her for sure, if you really try.

it's okay

hey,

I don't mind not going there

but to stay here

I don't mind having this

not that

I don't mind sharing this much

and not getting that much

I don't mind staying like this

not like that

I don't mind being this

not that

I don't mind now

and not hence

I don't mind so much

sometimes

I don't mind at all

here is good enough.

now is good enough.

I don't mind staying as it is

as long as 

you're all here beside me

it's okay.