This kernel has a lot unsaid
It is made out of black clouds sometimes
Sometimes it is made from the heap of mind hay..
The darkness hidden, the eye smile snuggle
A shy blush sway
Another night away
To communicate once again
Her life in a million ways
She uses it not only on her eyes
But most of the times it covers her sighs..
Who am I to write down this and expose her frail
And then we know the world respects poets
But again if somebody feels hurt to read this
Let me know I’ll comfort with another..
Handful of words these, help sometimes more than anyone
Inside, Outside, somewhere Between
Masks pay respect in one or the other fashion
And the world bows to the trend of mashups..
Again when she returns her home alone
She sees those drops of coal lie dead on her cheeks
A feeling of remorse for kind of killing it
To decorate her
And one more morning with the same regretful crime
Because life moves on, love does, but the struggle doesn’t
And she is none less than other
So in respect of the She, I dedicated this to every woman
Who felt she has not just drove from a girl to a lady to a woman
But realizes there is some more space to be herself again..