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A Prison Filled With Smoke

 I drew with a pencil that broke in the middle I drew with the shorter half that choked on the riddle I knew it was going to be harder to hide my fiddle I drew on top of a scar that had been ripped open too far I drew the stitches to cover the leakage in rage I made the lead to break I drew dark glasses to hide my eyes from lies that cover my face I drew empty classes where I teach freedom I knew no one would come and take the risk that it encompasses I drew the bucket  that has holes everywhere I drew the station that never sees a train only the pain of everything passing right through the empty tracks I drew a relation that is always in tension what should I say how should I pay what should I do not to stay I drew a blanket to cover my soul I drew a bullet to destroy the ghoul I knew someone will call me out I knew someone will shout I drew a chair where I can sit and think about being fair I drew a floor filled with gravity of good time smoke gathered around me suddenly, I ...

Choice

Stepping out at night.
Held your hands tight..
Hoping you might.
Never be out of sight..
Laughing our hearts out.
A deep urge to shout..
Beneath lie promises.
That never left the premises..
Jumping higher to reach the cloud.
Tipping toes standing proud..
Suddenly hit the ground.
Not bothered by the sound..
Besides the cold heart beats.
Everything lost was never found..

You chose another rose.
As I galloped through the darkness..


Thoughts By -
Pratiksha Misra.

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