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!

Perspective

Remember that conversation,
Of which you weren't really a part,

Cos twas between some others,

But you had no choice but to hear along?

Twas one such overheard conversation,

Between two pals who journeyed along,

A couple of seats away from me,

On a day not so long.

They were both young and exuberant,

Wanting to take the world by storm,

Both of them had high aspirations,

And dreams to have it all.

They spoke of their plans for the future,

Of grandeur days ahead,

The way their career would progress,

And mansions they would build.

Even as they conversed amongst them, 

I wondered how they'd both,

Face the challenges thrown their way,

How they'd play the game of life set ahead for them.

I glanced out the window deep in my thoughts,

And saw below the fluffy clouds, 

Beyond the rays that caught my eye,

The mansions and dotted landscape of flats,

All look like Legos scattered from the sky!

The Gift

It was a gift, a birthday gift,

One she'd asked her mother for,

Because her friends around where she lived,

Looked happy riding in one around. 

With smiles on their faces, light in their eyes,

They made it look easy to pedal back and forth, 

The wind in the hair and bells in the air,

Seemed to make them float around on those wheels.

Now she'd got one too, she was overjoyed,

The thrill of the ride would soon be hers too,

So thinking she took her bike to the streets,

With more enthusiasm than skill she possessed.

You guess what happened, I'll leave that to you,

In short, there was a lot of crying and bruised skin too,

Suddenly the much anticipated thing, 

Seemed to cause her more pain than the joy she'd presumed.

Later in the day, she wondered what to do,

Was it worth the pain to learn something new?

She sure wanted to feel the wind in her hair, 

She decided to persevere till she could smile through her fears!

The Phantom Friend

He had just a couple of days, 

To hop and skip and see the world,

With tiny wings he flew around,

Till he was sure he'd seen it all.

He wasn't sure, but thought he had,

Someone follow him close by,

Keeping up with his each step,

Silently, all day by.

Tried he did to peer and see,

Who it was that followed him,

Friend or foe he did not know,

Or was it just a flutterby?

Tired at last he called a halt,

Deciding to rest his tiny wings, 

And when he perched up on the wall,

He met his shadow, his phantom friend!