What Did You Outgrow ?

We all outgrow somethings,
Sometimes our homes,
Sometimes ourselves,
Sometimes old mates,
Sometimes the wreck,
Sometimes brown woods,
Sometimes green grass,
Sometimes our uniforms,
Sometimes our pencils.

Where do we move
After the growing,
I guess that's what
We should be knowing,
Is it to the bricks and mortar,
Or to the love affair
Or to the World so blue,
That our eyes stay glued ?

Feeling the new emotions,
Diving into those depths,
Looking into the future,
While going through transitions,
Way too much load in growing up,
And giving ourselves a label

To fit and become likable,
We lose and then find the essence,
That we hold
In our soul,
To live fully and experience
That which world has to offer,
Not merely as a gift,
Rather an intense call,
To give it our all.

Comments

An intense grip!

Not having met you Never made me feel empty, But having met you Makes me feel weak, Not that I can't survive, But it's a struggle of not wanting to, A struggle of knowing All that should be known, And yet unable to Hold back from the unknown, A dying sense of urgency Although there is none in the vicinity, A profound feeling of having found A feeling so intense That it just couldn't be spent Even after exhausting every cent.

The rising

A tale of inspiration, building upright, from the gallows of darkness and kingdom of fight, A burning desire to give proof, of abiding strength and courage and coup, An inner whirlwind, rising and falling, like a sand dune with its crests and troughs, magically building the foundation of faith and truth, Its outcome will be a proof in time of all things worthy and filled with chime.

A Rebel ?

A rebel is what you call, A fighter is what I prefer, The most important thing of all Is that the qualities don't differ, To stand for what I believe, To look at people leave, It does break my heart for a while But more than that it brings about a smile, For it exposes the real ones And the cruel ones, And along it brings enlightenment to my soul, And peace to my mind, To be able to find A part of me in all, To be alive and willing, To be thoughtful and thinking, To be educated and building, To be sensible and helping, Life is a game Battlefield, if you will, To come out alive Is the mildest of will, Injuries do pain, But can never over-power the gain, I wish this human race Condemned the norms And started off believing In possibilities and forms.

Girlishly

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