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Sri Shruthi Nov 2015
Pink sprinkles turn violet
just on that curve of my ballet
waiting for that valet
to do my job as a pilot.

Tip of my toe pointed
towards the Mother earth,I
jump, my garment floats with me
just to find myself.

I stop there, sit to rest,
plugs beat into the drum,
as i close my eyes,
mind separates the plays.

spirals all around me,
that magical blue pixels
I open to find myself,
held by you.

I look up at the sky,
wishing to fly like no attachment
seems to be my love for pie,
that never find its compliment.

There I sit at the cliff
as my lovable loneliness
arrests me with its handcuff
called,commonly, darkness.
Sri Shruthi Nov 2015
Seconds of paint to the built
man, that spoils the blue
drums covered with tips,
that high, drags up our heads.

Minutes to wash our hands,
bringing silver all over
in joy, tearing the covers
apart, the cover of ours open.

Hours of sleep,
as the holiday extends,
laziness infused into,
days goes on too.

Days of sorrow upon a choice
but,joyful curves coming
for cracking,beautiful,elegant,
colorful garment
#DIWALI #Indian #Love
Sri Shruthi Nov 2015
Sitting in a corner,
as I dream, yellow light falls on me,
thinking i am  an art,
I feel like a successor.

dark light ruling my room,
as  I laugh at my creation,
that the heaven cries with me,
for my heart might stop, for the fiction.

Plugs on,lights off,
sparkles spread on,the boredom is put off,
curses, there it came ,sigh ,it goes
as my breathe, at its slow phase.

Shadows in shape of love,
mixed emotions to plough,
for this life, my respect as a bow,
And,now,my idea is put to sow.
#rain #happiness #cry #livingtogether
Sri Shruthi Nov 2015
A day where that person
does not want to talk,
anger comes out as tears
danger, seems to be clear.

A day where that expectation
did its revenge on me,
as I was piling it on,
like a water overflowing into a pond.

A day where that cry
without your knowledge,
just for one person's urge,
no fruit for any try.

A day where your destination
questions you back,
as you carry book in a big bag,
killing yourself inside, curves outside.
Sri Shruthi Nov 2015
Trying to be independent
when hated being dependent
I told myself try to be unique
but it ended in tragic

thinking, I will recover
I found my coward
Irritated, a voice came by
saying never say goodbye

Twinkling, I wanted to be
thinking what I have been
I don't know what happened to me
I thought I was trying to be me

Telling myself, asking me,
who I am? What i am made for?
have I come already this much far
caring about nothing,  I dint see me.

Rewinding, it doesn't mean to the 'I'.
who I am? what do 'I' mean?
I shall do nothing but thank you
for trying to tell me that I am mean.
Sri Shruthi Nov 2015
My strength, I am unique,
My weakness, I am mirror,
I stand there in panic,
wanting an clear view.

I want to be kind.
To act like I don't mind,
For i stay in cower.
I want to tear the cover.

I dint think I am tenacious,
I don't know that i am serious,
this makes me curious,
for I have seen wrong in continuous.

I put my hand up in the air,
to find somebody to discover my hair
being driven by so much of fare,
I want to stop this affair.
Sri Shruthi Nov 2015
Dark, the surrounding changes
lightful, my heart jumps
to that delightful zone
no question can be asked.

As it all gives a curve
the unstable,random,chaotic,
continuously changing rhythmc
life goes on, for a burp.

Wet, that dances in the breeze
white cloth covers the heart
wanting to *****
thinking, seems to be an art.

Light in the darkness
beautiful, my eyes admires,
there i see you, whose twinkles
dazzle around, to put magic sprinkles.

— The End —