Posted in memories, Poetry, Self love, Writing

Mystery

Hey guys, how have you been? Coming back, almost after a month. This blog isn’t as positive as the others but I hope, many of you’ll would relate to it. It’s based on a girl who loved mysteries so much that she became one.  

She’s a mystery,
The dark behind the moon.
She’s somewhere,
I wish I could see her soon.
She says she’s alright,
Listen to everything she tells.
But, as I slowly read the verses she wrote,
It was as if my heart breaking from somewhere else.

She was like the ending of an unfinished book , he had an ominous look
He was etched in her mind for days,  like a scab on the pigment of her skin,
Lights were dim and she still couldn’t grin,
Late nights; the hidden frights ,she blinks up with the bathroom lights
2am, the promises have faded, and the soul is again jaded
“Why are you here? You promised dear,
But now your knees are scarred, And your voice is tarred.”

Searching for an answer to it all
even though it’s written on the stall,
she blended in with spare suicidal words
engraved along the bathroom wall and began to cry again.

One day maybe she will see
the bottle of hope floating in the sea,
She’ll then unwrap its final note
to reveal what destiny wrote.
Until then, she’ll continue to be a – mystery!

Depressed-womanPlease give your valuable feedback. With this poem, I’ve tried to experiment a contradictory version of personality that we all, at some point in our life have been through or seen someone like this around us. So feedbacks, please! 😀

And yes – Have a good day 😉

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Posted in memories, Poetry, Writing

Memories.

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We laugh, we cry,
Sometimes we’re low while sometimes we’re high,
There are times when sadness visits, says Hi’
and Happiness bids goodbye.

We go through – Days of lying on the bathroom door,
Regretting and weeping on the floor,
Missing those endless laughs saying,I want some more,
Reviving memories on the shore.

We’re all so different, yet the same,
We’re all so intelligent, yet so lame,
We all live in memories, lying in the frames.

Posted in Poetry, Writing

I relive.

Rain posses many faces,
hidden in romantic places,
culminated by embraces,
Drop by drop as it falls,
I re-live the memories of yesterday,
I rel-live.

It illuminates all the darkness,
intertwining halves into wholes,
fulfilling a
earthly role,
Drop by drop as it falls, I re-live the memories of yesterday,
I rel-live.

Rain invades enchantingly,
perhaps, appears repeatedly,
but comes only once, sacredly and eventually.
Drop by drop as it falls,
I re-live the memories of tester eat,
I rel-live.❤

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Share with me, your memories of a rainy day in the comments below⤵

– Simran Brijwani

Posted in Poetry, Self love, Writing

Beauty has no name.

Laying on the bathroom floor,
With cold tiles to my back,
I think of all the things I’m not,
All the things I lack.

I roll over on my stomach,
My cheek pressed to the floor,
I dream of all I could’ve been,
How I could be so much more.

But then a thought occurred to me,
That others may think the same,
That somewhere on some other floor,
Someone else is wanting change.

This then led to a deeper thought,
Which made a lot of sense to me,
There’s a reason we are this way,
We’re all the way we were meant to be.

Every one of us is different
But in the end we’re all the same,
Together we’re beautiful,
And beautiful has no name.

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” In order to be loved by the world, you need to love yourself and have faith in the power of your words to inspire others to do the same.”

Be⚪YOU⚪tiful ✨

– Simran Brijwani