Stray Thoughts

There’s dust on the keyboard,
Some more on the books,
A wallet lying open nearby,
With bits and pieces around.

The walls are scattered with photographs,
Of near and dear ones;
And some more moments of cheer you'd find,
In the gallery of the handheld device.

The guitar needs a tuning,
A couple of strings too, perhaps,
It's clear they need a bit more of music,
Some fun and more laughter to sync.

You wonder where the days have gone,
What you’ve done with your time,
Mornings come and evenings go,
You seem to be stuck alone somewhere in time.

You see facades around,
And not just on the buildings,
Masters, it seems, all are,
At masking their true emotions.

Everyone you see is happy,
Or trying hard to be,
Are there no kindred spirits,
No one riding the same boat as you?

You wonder then, if you are truly happy,
Or trying hard to be,
Are you trying hard to get it all,
But missing the real you?

Time

The sands of time, o how they trickle by,

Sometimes quickly you say, sometimes a tad prolonged,

I wonder what tales these sands can say,

Some sombre and then some so grand.

They've seen the times of emperors and great leaders of yore,

They've been at the battles fought in the land,

A silent spectator as history enfolded,

Some sombre and some so grand.

Adjusted they did to the changes around,

Some from the water bed to land,

Some others from boulders worn down by time,

Until they learnt to be one with the times, be they sombre or grand.

And yet these sand lie on your feet,

Trodden by all around,

You realise it's these sand that has stood the time,

While you're just a part of its time!

Holding On

She could resist it no more,

Her eyes were too heavy,

They longed to leave the present world.

The pull was too strong,

A beginning awaited on the other side,

She was reluctant to leave the story she had this side.

It wasn't over yet, 

She couldn't leave yet, 

This couldn't be how it ended, 

She needed to know the end.

It was a losing battle, she knew it as much,

Wasn't long before she gave in, and was pulled into dreamland,

But not before tucking her reader in her arms,

Trying, as though, to carry her story beyond!