can't turn back the clock;

you can't turn back the clock
even for all those wasted years
separated and distant.
that is the way of life
unpredictable at its very best.

can amends be made?
can we start anew?
for the most part
no is the answer.
in certain circumstances, maybe
and with certain people, yes.
others are left just where they are
where they have been
since the beginning of the end.

always hiding behind the wall;

always hiding behind the wall
it's her backbone
her infrastructure
her protector
from everything in the world
it is her sanctuary.

large and small stones
her sacred wall in composed
and in each stone holds a key
a note, a memory, a wish
it is the mosaic patchwork of her soul.

and every time she needs to escape
from the reality that deems to much from time to time
to her stone wall she runs
it is her own version of a harry potter pensieve
where she can come and lay her thoughts and feelings to rest.

so that when she reemerges back into reality
she may do so with a clear conscious
a clean slate
with all the confidence she's ever had.

tiny little break;

mulling over a hot cup of coffee
a comfortable silence
amidst the busy world outside.

people talking
children laughing
cars honking
dogs barking
chaos at its very best
in the early hours of a weekday morning.

but a closing of the eyes
opens up the worlds within
where peace is a dominating force
calming the nerves, heightening the senses.

sometimes it's just that tiny little break
that everyone needs in their lives.

insignificantly small;

we are so insignificantly small
and yet, we believe to stand tall
higher than the mountains around us
reaching the skies
we think we can touch the moon
and move the stars.

but look around
the vast beauty around us
that we never take the time
to stop
to listen
and to see
not with our eyes, but with our heart.

we are caught up in our busy lives
a revolving door that never ceases to slow down
and let we let everything else pass us by
in a blur of color, sights, and sounds.

stop and breathe
the world is so much bigger
than we can ever hope to understand
it's majestic crown of beauty
that we can only ever hope to dream.

stop and breathe
before it's too late
and you forget what it is like to live.

who will i be today;

it's like dancing on either side of the court
two cards to play, depending on the situation
my ace and my jack, black jack perhaps.

which one will benefit me
which one will have me excel
it all just depends really
but i have the choice.

two halves of one
different from each other
and unfortunately
far more identified with only one.
the other has been left in the dust
like a long forgotten toy
abandoned in the farthest corner of the attic.

but still, the options are there
waiting for me to take my pick.

who will i be today?

restart life;

excuse me
where is the reset button?
i am in dire need of it
so it would be great
if you could just tell me now.

i've searched high and low
far and wide
and it is a futile search.

do you have the treasure map
where X marks the spot
and lies my beloved restart button.

please, i will barter with the devil
i will give him my soul
if only you will tell me
even a whisper.

seriously
let's have our do-overs
don't tell me
you haven't wished to restart life.

when did it happen;

when did it happen
when did it all begin?
we shed out childhood jubilance
our care-free days and mindless wanderings
of lazy summer evenings and afternoon naps.

when did we step out of our comfort zone
and enter the industrial lane
to become working zombies of society
where 40-hour work weeks become our future.

when did we become adults
making salaries, paying mortgages, and raising families
where did we find the strength
to stand our own two feet.

because i myself feel trapped
lost in a limbo of in-betweens
it seems almost impossible
to imagine the future described.

i will never be ready
and i almost don't want to be
but my strangling grasp on the past
is beginning to wane and become futile.

whether or not i want it
i will take my place in society
and i will have no choice but to continue moving forward.

it is times like these;

it is times like these, that i hate him more
a burning fire deep within
never quite extinguished
ready to flare up at any moment
if only given the opportunity.

it tears me apart
to see what life has done
and all i want to do is blame someone
so i blame him, my go-to scapegoat.
he did and gave nothing
the perfect escape.

i will never forget.
i will never forgive.