Who, What, Wear

I decide what I wear, when I please
Dresses, shorts, or skirts with striped tees
No one can tell me there’s a certain way to be
In this form of expression, I choose to be free.

I’m not going to be conscious when walking down the streets
I will not lurk in the shadows or stare at my feet
In fear, I will not hide or retreat
In this war against society, I will compete.

I decide what to wear, when I please
Fishnet stockings, or dungarees
I will not be lulled, can’t you see?
In this form of expression, I choose to be free.

According to the occasion, I will make my choice
I will ignite a revolution, my flags I will hoist
When labels disappear, all will rejoice
To make that happen, I will raise my voice

I decide what to wear, when I please
High-heeled boots with a hooded fleece
The length of my attire is up to me
In this form of expression, I choose to be free.

Labels are put on clothes to show their price, but when they are put on the people who wear the clothes, they have no value.

~Sahana

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Counting Sheep

Lying on my bed, waiting for sleep,
Drifting on in silence, counting sheep.

One, two, three,
He doesn’t love me
I have to break free,
From this insanity.

Four, five, six,
I don’t care what he thinks
I’m suspended at the brink,
If I let go I’ll sink.

Seven, eight, nine,
He doesn’t have time
He couldn’t make it for me,
I don’t need him in my life.

Ten, eleven, twelve,
No more stories to tell
No more memories to make,
No more pictures on the shelves.

Drifting on in silence, counting sheep,
But the one thing I won’t get is a blissful sleep.

Scared

Holding onto every second,
As if I’m struggling for a breath.

Dreading the day the end will come,
As if I’m waiting for death.

Taking notice of every little thing,
As if I’m a detective looking for clues.

Smiling as much as possible now,
As of readying myself for the blues.

Storing away every memory,
As if I’m chaining you to my mind.

Cherishing every moment with you,
As if you were the best thing I could find.

Giving you little pieces of me,
As if I need balance, gram by gram.

Loving you like I’m going to lose you,
Because scared is what I am.

It’s not the future I’m scared of. It’s a repeat of the past.

Make My Day

If you say even a word,
A smile would graze my lips
Excitement travels down,
My toes to my fingertips.

Your presence colours my skies,
And brings radiance to my face
Every time you look at me,
My pain and sorrows erase.

Your laugh has no match,
I could go days listening to that sound
I feel at bliss when I’m around you,
A home I’ve at last found.

The butterflies died long ago,
After months of heartbreak and gloom
But you planted a garden inside of me,
When my love for had bloomed.

I know you can’t return the feelings,
You don’t think of me that way
But even one word from you,
Continues to make my day.

 

The Chameleon

Everything looks better,
With a fresh coat of paint
A new perspective,
To cover up the taints

A pristine colour to match,
The varying desires
In trying to fit in,
Was she really a liar?

Day by day,
As she met a new face
Hers would change too,
According to their taste

What they looked in for another,
Was what she became
As she added on to her layers,
She was never again the same

The clay of her personality,
Moulded to fit a trait
The mask she put on,
Was used as her bait

Everything looks better,
With a fresh coat of paint
But there are only so many colours,
To cover up the taints.

 

Reflection

There once was a girl,
With a fiery soul
A gentle heart,
And a voice so bold
Her beauty was praised,
Throughout the land
And every young lad,
Wished for her hand.

Suitor after suitor,
Came riding by
They stared at her,
Desire in their eyes
From princes to paupers,
All lined up to impress
One question was all she asked them,
Not more, not less.

“Describe my beauty,”
Was all she said
And the suitors all answered,
From the top of their heads
“Hair like husked corn,
Clear blue eyes,
And porcelain skin,”said Sir Kyle.

“Hair like ebony!”
Protested another man
“Lips red like a rose,
The fairest in the land.”
Several others tried,
Saying what they could see
For they all say in her,
Their definitions of beauty.

One saw a smile,
That brought joy to his life
In her face one saw kindness,
Another saw his wife
Days had passed,
But to her dismay
None of her suitors said,
What she hoped they would say.

The girl began losing faith,
And all her adherence
For not one of her many suitors,
Had described her true appearance
She wasn’t beautiful after all,
Or so she began to fear
When at last one came along,
To tell her how she appeared

There was one who found her beautiful,
It all became crystal clear
For as she stared at her reflection,
Her insecurities disappeared.

In a world where you represent everyone else’s definition of beauty, you are bound to forget yourself. You are bound to succumb to the wants of everyone around you. But you don’t need to change yourself for anybody. Self love is something that isn’t given enough importance, and I want to change that. Dear readers, you are beautiful. You are worth it. Love yourself.

 

 

 

Fall

When the apple fell,
Newton discovered gravity
It’s only when we’re pulled down,
That we realise our vitality

When the leaves fall,
Change is in the air
The sombre shades will transform,
The trees won’t stay bare

When snowflakes fall,
Celebration hits the streets
Love swells in hearts,
Sorrow retreats

When eyelids fall,
Peace fills the soul
Thoughts are tucked away,
As slumber takes its toll

When the sun falls,
The moon takes its place
Stars twinkle from up above,
As dreams are chased

When petals fall,
The truth will appear
Whether he truly loves her,
Will at last be clear

When teardrops fall,
We must know its not the end
We get stronger and stronger,
As we fall again.

Silent

The world overwhelmed her with so many thoughts,
That she decided to keep them inside
One question after the other was thrown at her,
So she chose to run and hide

The world overburdened her with so much pain,
That she couldn’t express it out loud
She hid behind white lies and plastic smiles,
To put on a show for the crowd.

The world overdosed her so many sorrows,
She swallowed her tragedy away
The thoughts in her mind the most violent of all,
For they were silent till the very last day.

Her words could fill oceans, but she only told them a drop.

Bloom

Every day she walked,
Watering can in hand
She smiled at the lady,
At the newspaper stand

Around her, the city bustled about,
And she loved her home without a doubt

Waving a hello to the boy on the bike,
She caught a whiff of the smoke she sure did dislike

Every day she walked,
Watering can in hand
She went around the city,
Showing love to the plants

Around her, the city danced about its way,
So she went up to the people and told them what she wanted to say

One by one, they started to make an impact,
All of it began with the smallest of acts

Trickling in were thousands of hands,
As everyone chipped in to save the land

Every day she watered,
But now she wasn’t alone,
From one plant, a chain reaction had grown

The newspaper lady, the boy on the bike,
Together they got rid of the smoke they disliked

Where joy cascades, there once was gloom,
When she planted change, love had bloomed.

. . . .

The sun doesn’t care whether we watch it rise or not. It will continue being beautiful, irrespective of who is there to appreciate it.

Small acts lead to big impacts. One match can start a wildfire.
Ignite change.
Fuel a revolution.
Burn the negativity. 
Be that match.

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