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A Boy Who Touched The Sky

sand and mud splattered on his dud he watches his shoes sinking deeper in pool a stone  at sight he doesn't want  to fight but that seems the only way to keep him cool he thrashes and there goes the stool flying through the sky a story to boast about as birds don't lie the crying soul went dashing  through the door calling foul roaring back  comes a clutter for a boy  the success matters so he gathers his wet shoes and tries to adjust the  stance forgetting the simple fact of he didn't  stand a chance and with a dance or two he runs like a fool towards the old school  with the thought  of ghosts playing dust off while his feet had started to give up rolling  over the grass bed his breath wide spread  a dragon cloud soaring high flew right amidst the floating sky the bird waved him slight  flying to go out of sight he had lost and found his try  beyond the mighty sky while fresh droplets  felt on his face  ended up the chase  rain had  made the dragon cloud to surrender a dr
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Cups

When you get a cup,

 to wake up..

a cup,

not to give up..

a cup,

to celebrate..

while going up,

a cup,

after your break up,

a cup,

to shake up,

a cup to,

make up,

a cup to find things,

and sync up,

a cup,

to just enjoy company..

a cup,

to absorb harmony..

a cup,

to be thankful,

a cup,

to start listening,

a cup,

filled with worries,

that you own up,

while you close the 

open ends,

a cup,

filled with memories,

that you bring up,

while you choose to,

use them to blend into the future,

a cup,

that balances the heaviness,

and doesn't trickle,

a cup,

that lies in sorrow,

untouched and cold,

while you pick up things too old,

a cup,

that says grow up,

a cup,

that pampers you as a child,

a cup,

that's wild,

a cup,

that's mildly hallucinating,

the shadows that fell through,

a cup,

of love,

a cup,

that's never going to feel the same,

a cup,

of remains,

a cup,

of sheer pain,

a cup,

of teary eyed joy,

a cup,

of life,

a cup,

of failure,

a cup,

of denial,

a cup,

of trying harder,

a cup,

that sat alongside,

while watching sunset,

or looked at you

while you dozed off,

seeking midnights,

a cup, 

of light,

drops that plopped out,

a cup,

of doubt,

with someone walking out,

a cup,

filled with questions,

a cup,

half filled,

a cup,

of desire,

a cup,

of fire,

a cup,

that was never returned,

a cup,

that gave you power,

a cup,

when filled,

wants to fit in,

and sits on the plate,

so that, it has someone to relate with,

what lies inside does matter,

but the thought of the one who decides,

to cheer you up,

despite all,

is worth every fall,

is worth that last call,

The cups,

we drink,

the cups that pushed us to think,

the cups that got sorted in a blink,

the broken cup,

the favorite cup,

the twisted cup,

the not listed cup,

the cup near your bed,

the cup at the end of the thread,

the cup on your table,

the cup reading a fable,

the cup with hidden smile,

the cup taking a while,

the throwback cup,

the lay down cup,

the fancy cup,

the dancing cup,

the dusty cup,

the unused cup,

the cup that called you over,

the cup that nailed your last thought,

the cup that resonated how you fought,

the cup that calmed your nerves after everything you bought,

we all are cups,

getting handled, mishandled, and left alone,

up on shelves for days, 

until the day,

someone points again,

how we stand out in the rain,

and then our journey starts again,

like a freshly bloomed butter cup...

so until it's the end,

let's all sit and pretend,

to be the cup,

that holds up,

far more than it seems to be,

to be the cup,

that warms up,

every soul that needs a heart that feels,

and not just a pair of eyes that keeps looking....






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