There are some fragments of me,
that refuse to time travel,
they live in grandeur of yesterday,
There are some fragments of me
that travel ahead of me,
they clutch deep into my body
and drag me to uncertain future.
Finally there are some fragments,
which believe neither in beautiful past or uncertain future,
they keep me on the ground and always walking,
they keep me sane and full of vision
I call them Hope.
© Shashank Bhardwaj.
Learning before success,
trying before failing,
wise smile after defeat,
working before praying,
doing what you love,
listening to your heart,
living simple,
writing,
Reading,
Loving,
A Life Well Lived.
Imagine a world without glasses,
with dull walls all around,
nowhere to see your face,
Nothing to brighten the light,
just dead walls,
no car windows,
no skyline view up from above,
no magical liquid contained in beer mugs,
Few people won’t be able to see around,
Few will be disillusioned,
but when someone asks me,
I say,
without glasses,
there would be no compare,
between beautiful and ugly,
between today and tommorow,
between wants and haves,
between where someone is from and where someone is going.
simple as that.
© Shashank Bhardwaj.
Immaculately dressed in black and white,
hair that shone even in tint lights,
he played the piano on lonely nights,
remembering her daughter and the little cute fights,
It’s been 15 years,longing now stole his patience
nerves bled when he was found in basement,
the piano was sold and so was the house too,
Still people hear those symphonies so true.
© Shashank Bhardwaj.
Clothes unpacked,
scrambled over bed,
bookmarks scattered over the table,
laptop hibernated,
A burger half eaten,
cigarettes butts in ashtray,
a bottle emptied
and only a single shoe turned,
Forget about writing,
someone had a night.
© Shashank Bhardwaj.
I have a hidden vendetta,
against all the memories you gave,
all the love we shared,
the kisses you stole,
the walks we had,
hand in hand,
now it is all brewing inside,
with rage and nothing else,
I have a hidden Vendetta,
for all beautiful things I had.
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Sometimes I don’t feel like writing,
I am not able to fathom a title,
inside me words fumble,
they slip out my fingers,
coffee spills on my diary,
the stars don’t seem to align,
I fell on the bed frustrated,
cursing those lucky angels,
who used to sit on my shoulders
and watch me write,
I know the mornings won’t be same,
my toes won’t laugh,
heart won’t sing,
Some Other Day, I tell myself,
If i survive such grief
Tonight.
Posted from WordPress for Android
Writings to Heaven 