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913 · May 31
Lie it is
Piyush May 31
Hope is a lie,
It stays within a die.
No one sees it,
No one needs it,
Yet you feel it.
Your wounds plead it,
But you just bleed it.
Hide it, confide it,
Still, you seed it—
Cause you need it.

Don’t disturb her,
Don’t absorb her,
You don’t deserve her.
You hear it,
You bear it.
Don’t say it,
Just obey it.

You rely on others,
You cut your own feathers.
A lie it is,
Yeah, that’s all it is.
You want it—
But you already have it.
608 · Apr 2
Silent Celebration
Piyush Apr 2
The wound is at her heart,
Her world is apart,
Trying to reach her,
Yet I can't speak with her.

Why is it so tough?
Whenever I see her,
I just stand there,
Frozen in the cold, with just a cough.

Is it my fault?
That I never stood by her,
Or is it her fault?
That she tried others?

I reach for words,
But they never stay,
They slip through my fingers
And fade away.

The day feels different,
But she wouldn’t know,
Once, I was there—
Now, I watch from the shadow.

If I had spoken,
Would things be the same?
Or was I meant to
Lose this game?

Today should be special,
Like the days we once knew,
But time has spoken—
And so, I stay silent too.
Today is her birthday, and I can't wish her,
So I wrote this as a gift to her.
496 · Mar 21
Unanswered
Piyush Mar 21
A white feather bird,
Sitting on my grill,
Under the quiet moon,
As the world stands still.

It tilts its head,
Eyes dark yet bright,
Speaking in silence,
In the hush of the night.

"Why are you sad?"
It asks with a sigh,
"Are you afraid?"
As stars fill the sky.

"What do you want?"
Its voice lingers near,
"Is it difficult?"
Soft, yet so clear.

I stare at the bird,
Yet words do not flow,
For how do I answer,
What I barely know?
It is just me who is not answering anything and it's the white feather bird who knows everything.
370 · Mar 9
Note II
Piyush Mar 9
A Quiet Afternoon,
A Wanderer's Forgotten Tune.
Eyes On The Door,
A Heart That Can't Be Restored.

A Crowded Room,
A Bride And A Groom.
Fitting Together,
Like Stars And Moon.

A Coffee Cup Left Half-Full,
A Message Left Unread,
Promises Whispered In The Dark,
Which Never Reached.

Sunlight Through Cracked Glass,
A Moment That Won't Last,
Hands Reaching But Never Close,
A Longing That Only Grows.

Footprints Washed Away By Waves,
Secrets Lost In Hidden Caves,
A Song Listened In Regret,
A Love That Stayed Repressed.
Continuation Of Part 1,i.e, Note I
332 · Apr 19
The Final Act
Piyush Apr 19
He joined the game
With open eyes,
A world of rules,
A web of lies.

He built a face,
A perfect skin,
To earn applause
And fit right in.

He leveled up,
He played it right.
But no one saw
His silent fight.

He shared his days,
They double-tapped.
But when he fell,
The screen went black.

The crowd moved on,
He lost his name.
Just one more player
Out of the game.

One girl paused,
But didn’t speak.
She felt a glitch—
Subtle and weak.

He reached the end,
No points to run.

The inner voices ask,
"Am I done?"
The player removes the mask,
Killing himself with a gun.
332 · Mar 13
Halfway
Piyush Mar 13
I have written thousands of letters,
I have written hundreds of nights,
And I have seen two lovers fight —
But they’re not fighting with each other,
Still, they are lovers in my story.

I have watched them talking,
A few lies and a thousand truths.
I have written their story,
I have decorated their glory.

That’s all I have given to them,
This is all I would leave behind.
But that’s not all they deserve,
And I will try again for them.
I will write their story again for them.

I would burn all the ashes for them,
Without paying any mind.
I would try to write their names together,
But I know I can’t spell it forever.

Still, I would continue writing their story,
I would write it like a song,
I would sing it like a poem,
I would say it like they’re gods —
In the hope that somehow, they can be together.

But they can’t be the same lovers,
Because, as I said before,
They’re fighting, but not with each other.
They’re complaining, but not about each other.
They’re crying about their lovers
Who left them halfway.
I wrote this poem for the lovers who never got their ending — for those still holding on, even when love slipped away.
321 · Mar 12
More Beautiful
Piyush Mar 12
We don't cry because something is sad.
We cry because something is more beautiful than we expected it to be.

And we just don’t have that
"more beautiful" thing.
"Have you ever felt overwhelmed by the beauty of something just out of reach? This poem is for you."
291 · Mar 10
Note III
Piyush Mar 10
An Empty Evening,
A Soul Quietly Grieving.
Streetlights Flickering On,
A Feeling That Something Is Gone.

A Fleeting Moment Lost In Day,
A Memory Thrown In The Way.
A Sight To Watch Carefully,
A Love That Dissolved Freely.

A Story Filled With Lies,
A Heart Where Butterflies Rise.
A Boy Who Lost His Sight,
A Girl Who Shines So Bright.

A Bookshelf, Telling Different Stories,
A Window, Showing Different Glories.
A Fight Between Winning And Losing,
A Story Of Earning And Giving.

A Flower That Tries To Stay,
Even When The Sun Fades Away.
Holding On With All Its Might,
Even When It Loses The Fight.

A Cliffhanger, Before The Night,
A Feeling Which Was Right.
Slow Rain Coming From Her Eyes,
A Boy Who Never Even Tried.
Last Part From Note Series
287 · Mar 24
What is my dream?
Piyush Mar 24
They say:
Unsee their eyes,
Unlearn their feelings,
Clear your mind, and
Just focus on your dreams.
But the question is—
What is my dream?

Is it art?
Or is it music?
Maybe it’s both,
'Cause music itself is an art, right?

Or maybe it’s a boy,
Looking in the mirror,
Asking questions about
Affection and attraction.

Or maybe it’s a girl,
With soft eyes and a fake gaze.
But if it’s a girl,
Then it’s difficult to achieve, right?

Maybe it’s something else,
Yet to be discovered.
Or maybe it is discovered,
But I am still figuring it out.
Maybe I know what it is,
But I don’t know how to reach it.
Maybe I have taken a step,
Yet the path ahead remains uncertain.

Or maybe it is already achieved.
But if it is already achieved,
Then it is not a dream—
It is reality, right?

And if it is reality,
Then what is my dream?
Just a thought that wouldn’t leave my mind—so I wrote it down.
272 · Apr 15
The Coward
Piyush Apr 15
A coward hiding behind the mask,
A coward who can’t handle a task.
A coward who can’t earn a dime—
Why can’t he see a bit of shine?

In a world full of intelligence,
There lives one lost in negligence.
He wants the power in his hands,
To write a story that understands.

The coward finally sees himself,
While finding his story on a shelf.
He stays inside his little shell,
Not knowing what to give up—
the fear, the past, or the hell.
269 · Mar 16
Another Day
Piyush Mar 16
Today just passed like any other day,
Nothing happened in an extraordinary way.
Today is just another day,
That will soon fade away,
Like yesterday.

And sadly, tomorrow will become today.
I don’t know how to control this—
These feelings,
These emotions,
These affections,
In which I’m lost.

Sometimes, I wake up to the sound of shattering dreams—
Not anyone’s but mine.
And I stay up, thinking, What am I doing?
Technically, I’m not doing anything.
That’s the problem—I’m not doing anything.
I’m just lying down like an animal,
Lying like a human who has never experienced sleep.

It’s 3 AM now, and I’m still standing here,
Watching the rain slowly fall,
Listening to your voice echo from the clouds.
And I don’t know how to control this,
I don’t know what’s right anymore,
I don’t know what to live for.

Maybe I should drop this black pen
That you gave me—
The one that helps me write,
Even when I feel all uptight.
Maybe I should switch my hobby,
Maybe I should go smoke outside.

But maybe I shouldn’t.
What if I couldn’t?
Maybe I’m overthinking,
Maybe I should wait for another day,
Maybe I should hope that everything will be okay.

One day, maybe?
So, I eventually dropped the black pen after holding onto it for almost five years, and I hope you don’t relate to this poem.
268 · Apr 22
Side Character
Piyush Apr 22
We gave away our wings to fly,
We chose our hands to reach the sky,
And now we are floating way up high,
But the fall is real this time.

Why is it easy to fly in the sky?
Why is it not a crime to die?
The heart is beating so fast up high,
But he just wants to die.

He needs nothing now in his life,
He's content with his own sacrifice.
Why is it easy to die?
Why is it hard to find the sky?

He’s ready to throw away his life,
Just to reach the sky,
A sky without a night,
A killer without a knife.

The world around him isn’t bright,
Yet he tried to make it right.
Why must the side character always die?
Why does no one see his fight?

He needs nothing now in his life,
He's content with his sacrifice.
He gave up his wings to fly—
Now…

The blood is all over him now,
His hands have finally fallen down,
The world begins to fade somehow,
An end that no one wants.
266 · Mar 15
"A Battle Within"
Piyush Mar 15
Lying in my bed, and I can't sleep,
There are too many thoughts running deep.
I don’t know how to make them fade,
It’s a battle within that can't be swayed.

I’ve done everything wrong, not a **** thing right,
I close my eyes, yet they stay open wide.
Am I lost, or am I broken?
A question left unspoken.

I write on empty pages so they might feel whole,
I wonder—if I spoke, could I fill my soul?

Have you ever wondered why stars shine at night?
When all is dark, do you still need light?
I think they’re the battle scars of the sky,
A thousand paper cuts before it dies.

I believe something hides behind the dark,
Consuming it slowly, leaving its mark.
I think the night sky is an armor,
Shielding us from the bright demon,
Waiting to collect us in the cruel morning.

They feed on our hearts, our souls like fuel,
Yet these are just theories I cannot prove.
Still, there’s a line that rings true:
"Dark is not scary; dark is poetry."
Some thoughts and some poetry—I hope you like it.
261 · May 14
The Beauty Of Sky
Piyush May 14
The beauty of sky
Lives within a lie.
The beauty of love
Is touched with gloves.
The beauty of truth
Isn’t found in fruit.
The beauty of goodbye
Is wrapped in a lie.
The beauty of lie,
Sleeps inside a die.
258 · Mar 14
Wishes
Piyush Mar 14
Maybe it's not today, maybe it's tomorrow.
Maybe it's not going to happen, maybe it will happen.
Maybe I'm wrong, maybe I'm right.
Maybe it's a one-sided wish,
Maybe it's your incomplete wish.
Maybe it's not us who pulled the trigger,
But the past holding the explosive.
Maybe all we had were actions, with no motive.
Maybe it's just the voices in my head,
Maybe it's your absence from my mindset.
Maybe it's my mirror telling me lies,
Maybe it's the empty skies.

Or maybe it's us,
Or the way you make me feel like a curse.
Have I become crazy?
Call me anything, but don't call me lazy.
Call me a lover before you call me a loser.
I'm aware of my reputation, but I swear I'm not the user.
Call me anything, any name you want,
Or maybe just call me — that's all I want.
Or maybe just look at me with soft eyes and a fake gaze,
I'm aware that my head is a maze.

Are you aware that I love quiet, but your silence I can't stand?
Are you aware that my heart is in the palm of your hand?
Are you aware that I look at you like you're the moon?
Are you aware that you give me the look, like you're not the one?
Maybe you're aware, or maybe you just pretend it well.
"Wishes" is a collection of thoughts I never got to say out loud — a mix of hope, heartbreak, and the longing for someone who might never understand how much they mean to me.
254 · Mar 12
"Waste Of Time"
Piyush Mar 12
"Time Is Money"
"Time Is Everything "
They Say, But
What Actually Time Is?

An Expensive Dime?
An Uncontrollable Dine?
Or Maybe It is Unforgettable,
Just Like A Fine Wine.

A Fleeting Moment,Lost In A Grind,
Is It Mine?
Or Is It Of Different Kind?
Maybe It Is Not A Right Time,
To Understand Time.

Or Maybe What I'm Doing Now
Is Another Example Of "Waste Of Time".
237 · Mar 20
"Lost My Way"
Piyush Mar 20
Rainy Day,  
Blurred Eyes,  
Lost My Way,  
Lost My Sight.  

Another Day,  
Another Try,  
Searching for a Path,  
Reaching for the Sky.  

Different Day,  
Different Time,  
No Place to Rest,  
Not a Dime.  

What to Say,  
What to Rhyme,  
Lost My Way,  
Lost My Time.
235 · Mar 8
Note I
Piyush Mar 8
An Early Morning
A Broken Man's First Earning
Children's Laughter
A Beautiful Disaster.
A Rainy Night
Two Lover's First Fight
Matching Clothes
Silenced Voice
Slow Rain Coming From Her Eyes.
A Lover
A Light
A Horrific Sight
A Book That Has Seen All The People Overlooking It On The Shelf
A Girl Who Loved EveryOne But Not Herself.
An Abandoned House
A Homeless Family
Sunsets
Sunrise
A Beautiful Surprise
A Pair Of Eyes With Baked Tears
A Smile That Hides Fears
A Shoe Without Shoelaces
A Hand That Has No One To Hold
A Story That Has Never Been Told.
A Fair Hour,
Candies That Taste Sour
Lilies And Lavender
A Loud Thunder
A Mourning Silence
A Justified Violence
An Unanswered Question
An Unrevealed Letter
An Unlistened Prayer
A Dying Candle
A Forbidden Scandal
An Underrated Singer
A Million Things That I Could Count On The Tips Of My Fingers
Everything That Makes Your Thoughts Linger
I Wonder If Only You Knew
Everything That Reminds Me Of You,
The Voices In My Head
Are Words That Were Said
By Someone That Spoke True
They Remind Me Of You.
234 · Apr 30
To Kill A Goddess
Piyush Apr 30
In a world where power is the
                    government’s rule,
       A boy receives a gift—a power to
                        change it all.
  The girl who grants it, a force beyond
                             control,
  Her gift will shape the future, but at a
                       cost she’ll call.

"To **** you...
Was that my fate?"
He questions, seeing
The final state.
"You lived just to die?"
He asks in pain.
                                        Yes, my life was
                                         never plain.
"Then why give me
This cursed power?"
                                        To face the truth
                                       In this final hour.
                                       In this world,
                             where ends must start,
                      Life exists to break hearts.
"But life's more
Than just an end!"
It's moments, feelings-
Just to mend.
                                     "No!" She says,
                                 "death's part of light,
                                   Without it shadows
                                    Fill the night."
"You think it's
Wordplay!"
He says with fire,
"Why are we born,
If not to aspire?".      
                                   She smiles softly,
                                   Her truth untold:
                                 "Hope and meaning-
                                   Flickers bold.
                                   To live for death
                                   seems too cold,
                                 But without the end,
                                  Life grows old."
"No, I won't accept
This fate!"
He shouts, feeling
The weight.            
                                 "If you believe in
                                  what's true,
                                  Take my life, it's
                                  Left to you.
                                  Strike me down,
                                  and you will gain,
                                  Change this world
                                  From joy to pain."
But then he spoke
With his eyes so deep,
Words that woke her
Up from sleep:
"You don't have to die
To be free,
Your the reason
I still breathe."
                                  Her gaze softened,
                                  A tear fell free-
                                  In that moment,
                                  She chose to be.
Ahhh, what a drag.
Still, it’s an incomplete piece.
Hope you like it.
234 · Jun 1
Silence
Piyush Jun 1
Some desire it.
Some fear it.
Ironic, isn’t it?

You shattered her quiet.
Yes — you did.
You burned through her patience,
Bit by bit.
You said you wanted her…
But got the child she tried to forget.

Her friendship — a sin.
To make her smile — a win.
Now only silence
Lives within.

Silence to write her.
Silence to invite her
Into a place
Outside this human race.

A slow space,
Grey and uninteresting —
No joy, no light,
Just quiet resting.

It moves with time,
Yet stays out of reach.
You want to write more?
Silence, please.
231 · Mar 11
Burden
Piyush Mar 11
A Burden Of Birth,
A Fight Of Worth,
A Star Of Curse,
A Boy Of Thirst.

A Burden Of War,
An Encouraging Roar,
A Seaside Shore,
A Defeated Score.

A Burden Of Love,
A Sight Of Dove,
Yet Never Enough,
A Heart That Loves

A Burden Of Peace,
A Birth In Greece,
A War To Cease,
A Love In Release.
223 · Apr 10
A Violent Night
Piyush Apr 10
A violent night,
A crucial sight—
A family living
A tragic life.

A boy with blurred eyes,
A disturbed wife,
A husband who cried,
A child who sacrificed.

Why is it so difficult
To earn a dime?
I'm trying, trying, and trying,
But in the end,
I'm just a boy who's always crying.

The eyes saw the child
Holding a knife.
To him, it was right—
But to the wife,
It was an inevitable crime.

What should I do
To stop this fight?
The home is broken,
And the eyes are, again,
Just crying.

The vision is blurred,
The colours are blind—
Am I dying—
Or am I again trying?
208 · Mar 26
I Can't
Piyush Mar 26
Locked inside the walls,
Sitting in the hall,
Trying to recall,
Yet I slip and fall.

What is it that inspires you?
What is it that desires you?
Is it inside these walls,
Or is it the outside calls?

Did I do something wrong?
Or have I been wrong all along?
Is it me who doesn’t belong,
Or is it the world that belongs?

The struggle is hard,
The game isn't fun,
But the process is an art,
And the player is one.

The inner voices ask,
"Am I done?"
The player removes the mask,
Killing himself with a gun.
200 · Apr 25
Unheard
Piyush Apr 25
Born with nothing in my hand,
I stumbled upon this place,
Now I hold what silence sends—
A loaded gun, a pen that bends.

Love songs echo, cold and done,
No battles left that I have won.
The ground beneath me slips and slides,
I dream of stars where silence hides.

Why must each tale end with me?
Why not begin where I could be?
This mask still clings—it will not fall,
But I can't ****.
I hear the call.

I hear it speak in quiet halls,
A voice that echoes off the walls.
It tells me, write, or lose it all—
The pain, the love, the rise, the fall.

These pages show the things I hide,
The tears I've wiped, the times I've lied.
The gun is cold, it stays with me,
A shadow of who I could be.

They say the stars are born in fire—
But I was shaped by lost desire.
Not joy, not hate, not something grand—
Just silence I don’t understand.

So still I write, though none may read,
With heavy hands and quiet need.
This mask I wear, this war I fight—
This is my truth.
This is my night.
193 · Mar 10
Glimpse
Piyush Mar 10
A Glance So Sharp, It Cut Me Deep,
Her Eyes Of Pride, No Words To Speak.
The Silence Grew, So Cold And Clear,
Her Eyes Were Strong, I Felt The Fear.
No Words Could Close The Gap Between,
I Turned Away, Wishing To Be Unseen.

After Weeks Of Silence, I Stepped Outside,
She was Walking By With A Smile And Sigh.
She Spoke Of Her Day; Her Laughter Was Free,
I Listened In Wonder, Lost In The Sea.

Just A Few Minutes,Yet It Felt Like A Dream,
I Wonder, Is It Love, Or Am I Still In A Dream?
Differences Were There, Differences Are Here; Still Trying To Be Closer, I Will Always Be Near.
But The Wait Is Too Long With No Chance To Show, Heart Felt Heavy With The Hope To Grow.
Yet In This Uncertainty, A Light Starts To Shine,
Whispers Of Possibility, Perhaps She Will Be Mine.
Hope you like it and that ending of the poem is stupid so just ignore it.
180 · Apr 21
Shattering Dream
Piyush Apr 21
Sometimes,
I wake up to the sound of shattering
Dreams—not anyone's but mine,
And I don't even know why?
It's 3AM now,
And I can't sleep,
Why is it so tough to just breathe?

To breathe for an hour,
And I want that shine,
Even if it isn't mine,
Yet I can't reach.

It's not like I don't want to,
It's more like I can't do,
My skills, capabilities are weak,
Or you could also say that,
I'm weak.

The days feel heavy,
And the process is hard,
To maintain week by week,
Still I want to reach.

But to reach,
I need to breathe,
Not just for an hour,
But for a forever.

And sometimes,
This is the reality,
In which you have to breathe,
Not for a day,
Not for a week,
But for the homies,
Still, I want it to be—
a dream...
A shattering dream.
167 · Mar 23
Walk Away
Piyush Mar 23
Unsee, unlearn, let go.
Listen to their untrue laughter, then
walk away.
Unsee their eyes,
unlearn their feelings,
clear your mind, and
just focus on your dreams,
'cause their untrue laughter
won't help you sleep.
164 · Apr 27
Chaos
Piyush Apr 27
Born with nothing in my hand,
I stumbled into this land—
Once a dream,
Now swallowed by chaos' stream.

Here, three things stand:
War,
A gun,
And death’s command.

A war for broken minds,
A gun to silence signs,
A death to erase a name—
And still, they smile at the game.

But I refuse to live this dream.
I seek a place beyond the screams.
Isn't it funny, to hope and cross,
For peace inside a world of chaos?
Piyush Apr 8
An ignorant friend, that’s what he is,
Yet always kind—no moment missed.
He looked my way, but never spoke,
A bond once built, then quietly broke.

Why is it so difficult,
To grow, to be an adult?
I see him now,
Trying to ignore me somehow.

Did he ever care?
Or was it just me,
Clinging to echoes
Of what could never be?

I reached out in laughter,
In silence, in pain—
But he stayed in his world,
Like sun behind rain.

So I smile and move on,
Accepting he's gone,
But I still wanna talk to him,
In his sleep, in quiet dreams.
A few days ago, I wrote Silent Celebration for her birthday—a gift she’ll never see.
But I kept wondering… what if I imagined her side of the silence?
This is that voice—her perspective.
140 · Apr 5
A Quiet Afternoon
Piyush Apr 5
A quiet afternoon,
A boy watching cartoons,
Eyes on the door,
Not exploring his core.

He is lost in his path,
Believing he has passed,
But the answers are unknown,
And he faces them alone.

What should he do?
Do you have a clue?
He's lost in thought,
In a world so new.

What would you do,
If you were there too?
The boy is me. Written on a quiet day, when I felt lost but couldn’t say.
124 · May 2
Hidden Feathers
Piyush May 2
Always and everywhere,
The man who can speak well holds the power.
And the one who lacks the courage to speak—
Always and everywhere—
Stays lower.

No one knows what he hides from others:
The past,
A future,
Or his own feathers.

A past best left behind,
A future woven with lies,
Or feathers meant to fill the skies.

But what if he finds the courage to speak?
To speak of what was left behind,
To tell a future free of lies,
Or simply—
To fly into the open sky.
"Always and everywhere, the man who can speak well is the man who has the power."
-John Wanamaker
119 · May 10
The Curses
Piyush May 10
The curse of not being chosen,
A heart that remains unbroken.
A person who wants to fly high,
But can't even say a moment’s goodbye.

The curse of being alone forever,
Not even able to spell her name together.
What a drag this life has become,
Is it worth it, or should I succumb?

The curse of being forgotten,
I wonder how many tomatoes I've got rotten.
Funny, isn’t it?
The writing always tells the truth of myself.

The curse of losing everyone,
Wanna hear a fact full of fun?
Somewhere a heart tries to gain,
While somewhere else, it counts the pain.

The curse of knowledge,
I wonder how people manage,
Living their lives on the edge,
All this just to earn the privilege.

The curse of feeling too much,
Even thoughts of lunch feel like a crutch.
But still, we breathe, we break, we bend,
And hope one day the curses end.
113 · May 8
No Winner
Piyush May 8
Somewhere, promises fell apart,
Somewhere else, a new vow starts.
Someone's heart is making gains,
While someone else is counting pain.

You've found comfort in someone new,
Yeah... I think I always knew.
Your city's crowded, your time too tight,
No space for even a moment’s goodbye.

Why does the world never stand still?
Why does it always go against your will?
I'm at the verge of losing my sight,
Yet I see you there shining bright.

I see you standing there,
Facing the world alone here,
So strong, like you don’t even care,
While I still break with every stare.

My final day is here,
The sky will be bright as ever,
But my dream isn't here,
My life is lost in this player.
"My Life is lost in this player"
95 · May 20
She Was The Rhyme
Piyush May 20
Bloom it all or blow it all,
The character has done it all.
Why do you hide? Why don’t you shine?
The world is hard, the price feels fine.

Define yourself—write through the night.
The place is quiet, yet you cried.
Find the paper, find the light,
Stick to the bed, write something right.

Love is false—yet somehow right,
Still, you fight in this long night.
Your blood says it all,
Your time isn't bright.
Yet still you fight to define the night,
To learn the quiet,
To reach the site.

Long hair, pretty face, bright eyes,
Dressed your beauty in this rhyme.
Hiding from you, writing for you,
Admiring the last of you.

Don’t want money,
Don’t know the game,
The beauty is lost,
The rhyme is plain.
"Dressed Your Beauty In This Rhyme."
86 · May 17
Desire
Piyush May 17
Lost hope, lost life,
A desire lost inside.
A warrior never fought,
A friend who lost.
Is it necessary to desire?
Her gaze,
Her laughter,
Her truth—
Just wanted to admire.

Thin, lost—
Sin, and cost.
What is this?
A person,
Or just a shoe?

Wasted life, wasted time,
The stupid wanted to earn a dime.
How good is he,
How kind can he be?
Is he graduated,
Or even educated?

Know this,
Know that—
Are you alive,
Or are you dead?

Give me money,
Take this knowledge.
Give me test,
Take this certificate.
What do you want to be?
Tell me—
Everyone asked me.

"I want to study,"
He said—
Indeed, a lie.
God knows why.

Inside a tree,
He wants to live.
No human,
No chase,
No dream,
No game.

What is he?
A movie,
Or a disgrace?
Maybe he's both,
In the wrong time
And the wrong place.
40 · May 24
A day of a poet
Piyush May 24
The sun rises over a lily's field,
Early morning always brings the peace.
"Want some coffee? Add some milk,"
He wants to write—needs paper and a strong will.

The beauty of the world he knows,
Her beauty he recognises.
Yet he hides the beauty,
And always defines the pain.

"The world is hell," he says,
And somehow, he's always right.
He sees the bills,
He sees the depressed minds.

Wants some money, but
He's just a poet of the night.
How much further will he write?
How much more should he sacrifice?

Slow rain falling from her eyes,
The poet is dead inside.
He needs some rest now—
He needs a goodbye.
28 · May 26
To Unknown Beauty
Piyush May 26
Love is a beautiful dream, they say,
And I want to live in it too.
To see through it,
To know how much more I could lose.

Will it bring peace?
Will you be at ease?
The answer is "no".
But you're always free,

To walk beside her,
To laugh with her,
To see her smile in a floral dress,
To feel your heart pound in your chest.

But what more does a man want from her?
To hold her?
To kiss her?
Or does his hunger go darker?
To hurt, to break, to make her suffer?

Yeah, that’s what some men think,
When they see her—
Not as a person, but a thing.
"Lies you say," she barked, so rude,
Oh beauty wrapped in careless youth,
You talk of love, but not the truth.

How the world betrays your man,
Behind your back.
He hides his wounds in silence,
Dressed forever in black.

You think the seats for men
Are always saved and served.
Oh beauty, you unknown,
You don’t know how desperate he is
To earn the success you’ve deserved.
Piyush 1d
Happy or sad,
You play the character,
Until you're completely dead.
Ponder on it,
Live your life around it.

The courage to speak of it
Doesn't come from a beautiful place.
Yet you stayed inside that
Uncomfortable dress.

You think of her the whole day,
Still, you choose the mask
When she appears in your way.

How sad it is—
You often cross her path,
Yet never look at her face.
Instead, you focus only
On her shoelaces.
Still, your character smiles
Through this pitiful day.

Lies and lies you say—
What good has your character
Done till this day?
“He never desires everything,
He never asks for anything.”
His wishes remain unwritten,
Yet his prayers are often heard.
0 · Jun 2
Not for me
Piyush Jun 2
Evening it is.
Already?
No work, no **** —
Just silence.
I'm writing.

Can't take the risk,
Yeah, I’m scared.
No pressure, no disc,
Yet I’m prepared.

To work,
I must,
Though my thoughts
Gather dust.

Finding work —
Yeah, I’m berserk.
Not skilled,
Just the will
To fight.

I’m waiting.
Yeah, there are great things,
Just not for me.
But then —
There is she,
In my memories.
0 · May 31
The Edge Of Heaven
Piyush May 31
You see that line,
soft and hollow,
where skies turn gold
then fade to yellow.
The light grows thin,
but don’t be scared—
I go there when
I’m unprepared.
When noise is sharp
and pain is near,
I walk alone
to disappear.
The world feels cold,
my heart feels small,
so I just leave
away from all.
No voices call,
no eyes can see
the quiet place
that waits for me.
Where shadows stretch
and thoughts grow deep,
and even sorrow
falls asleep.
No one looks back,
no words are given—
I’m finally home.
That’s the edge of heaven.
0 · 6d
Poet's Mind
Piyush 6d
The words you write, you're going blind,
You hide away, leave light behind.
Your world’s gone dull, it lacks a shine,
How much of truth will you define?

You beg for answers from above,
But guilt is not what gods are made of.
You did it all, don’t mask, don’t fake —
Refuse the lie, or let it break.

Be kind, be bold, begin to see,
The mirror’s cracked — the fault is me.
You bury night to chase the time,
But still the sun will rise at nine.

You found the page but lost the pen,
You try to start and stop again.
You call it luck, you hope it shows,
But talent hides where no one knows.

You write, you dream, you paint her face,
But words won’t earn a lover’s grace.
No rhyme can pull her into crime,
No line can cross that sacred line.

Still here you stand, a voice confined,
A life half-lived, a heart resigned.
Inside this shell, thoughts twist and wind —
This is your cursed poet’s mind.
What a ****** up mind.
0 · 6d
Go Cry, Poet.
Piyush 6d
You want words?
Fine.
A poem born in the dark,
Posted under borrowed light — right?

You chase beauty
Because you’re scared of the blight.
You hide in daylight,
Where nothing really shines,
Yet you still commit the crime
Just to earn a ******* dime.

Yeah, right.

You call it pride,
But it’s fear inside.
You drink outside,
Act like you’ve survived,
But you’re hollow.
No one sees what you’ve swallowed.

You want a poem?
Look at the line —
Where the girl’s always right,
And you still want to fight.
You walk with pride,
Like you won the night.

You dream her.
You please her.
You think you ******* deserve her.

Your mind’s disturbed.
You smile soft,
But fall hard —
Every **** time.

You want redemption?
Then speak.
But you’re weak.
You preach dreams
But drown in extremes.

You try,
You cry,
But never ask why.
You bleed in silence,
Cling to violence,
Think pain is defiance.

And still —
You think this is poetry?

Alright —
This is your poem’s ******* theme.
Piyush 6d
A blue-feathered bird,
Sitting on my shelf,
Tells me a story
Not found in itself.

Of a poet and dead,
Of words that he said.
The poet was poor,
Only had words to pour.
The dead was once alive,
She was the king’s only tribe.

They met in shade,
No eyes, no blade.
He spoke in rhyme,
She gave him time.
No crown, no gold—
Just hands to hold.

The king knew
The poet’s affection—
For him, his daughter
Was no mere connection.
He ordered,
“Don’t ****, don’t spill the blood,
Write some words from the mud.
Hang him in the night,
When the moon will rise—
The poet’s will should die.”

She cried,
Yet they beat him
Till the night.

The story, never whole,
Remains told
By the blue-feathered bird.
The bird still sings, its voice not done,
Read the rest — there’s more than one.
0 · 6d
Blindness
Piyush 6d
Sometimes,
to **** someone
is kindness.
Yet none understand
the character’s blindness.

They laugh.
They abuse.
They always refuse
to stay another day.

And that's how
she walked away.

Only you know
how you stayed low—
how much you cried,
how hard you tried,
how deep you died.

But it doesn't matter.

Who the **** listens?
Who is up there?
What does He do?

Gave you life,
gave you a home,
yet you cry
just 'cause you didn’t
get your first phone.

Yeah, that's how it feels
when everything's locked inside.
Why do you look for light?
Live in the dark.
Live inside.

The home you got,
these walls,
stay here.

Why go there,
where you can’t even talk?
Why do you want to stalk
a beauty never yours?
Yet still,
you walk
near her block.

You idiot.
You fool.

Go say something.
Make her laugh.
Click her photographs.
Save them—
and cry
till you die.
Keep everything inside,
While you die outside.
Piyush 6d
Wait,
A long wait,
She's there,
Right there
Sitting next to you,
Yet you can't speak.
Why?
Don't know
Why not?
I don't know
But you're her friend,
So why can't you speak?
I don't know.
Not yet.
Not now.
I'm waiting,
Still waiting
For her to speak
To laugh at me
To walk with me.
Why can't I...
Talk.
I don't..
Know.
I want to..
Sit with her
Stay with her
Nothing..
More.
She's there,
Yeah there.

— The End —