Poetic Stories
-
I wish I was a painter So I could paint you a beautiful picture I wish I was a song-writer To write you lyrics that would make you cry
-
As the shadow protects and hidesDoes the soul reveal and attackWhere shadows show false but safe pathsThe soul takes on dangerous journeying.
-
A dab here, a brush stroke therePerfect face. Now a touch of red,Some flowery scent, a quick head tiltAnd all is in place. Go out there, entertain the crowdGo out there, bask in the applauseGo out there, lose yourselfGo out there to break, to recreate.
-
Anger As the chemo nuked her, she thought of the times she had not allowed herself to express her anger. But it had found another way. Fear Failed to succeed? Or succeeded to fail? Only fear could make sense of an equation where failure equaled success.
-
Looking in the mirrorI saw an image that did not belong to meThere stood a young girlWith a smile on her face, stars in her eyesAnd the world at her feet.Who are you I asked a little perturbedShe looked familiar but still so different.
-
DoorThe door must hold…that order lost him the war. The door indeed held – held while the troops were slaughtered, as they tried to break free. PyreAnd as the sun rose, he returned to his empty bed and she walked away from her funeral pyre to return to the light above.
tales of Suchita 