Something Wrong is There
‘Something wrong is there, something wrong is there.’ I don’t know what it is but surely I can feel it clear.
My senses awake high, by the time of this mid night. Don’t know what decision should I mere, with the fear of this dark sky up there.
With my little heart pumping up a blast, Somewhere I know it clear, that ‘Something wrong is there, something wrong is there.’
Broken Souls
Broken Souls are hard to heal like broken glass they can make you bleed. Handle them with care, for they can be your worst nightmare.
IT’s not fun to break a heart, after breaking a heart, doesn’t your souls fall apart.
Broken souls do stop to bleed. he scary scabbed soul, what do they need? They need some time with some warmth behind.
Easy? it’s not to let the silent sob stop. Impossible? it’s not, if you have a heated heart, indeed. Time taken?Allot, is your love patient enough? If not, is it even love?
The broken souls ain’t hard to heal. Hard it is, to find a person with enough zeal.
Dreamy Spring
Spring is here for life will blossom. Spring is here for life will bloom. Spring is here for itfeel so warm. Spring is here for the wind is calm.
Sunlight is bright, Just shinning right. This happy chirp, with some fruity burp.
This feels so right, no one’s in a plight. Might this be true, As gone is the blue.
Wait! What happened here, Is it the devil’s snare?
It was just a dream, here comes the icy gleam. Soon, It will be warm, with just a few days gone.
A Loyal Foe
I know that you are, not a liar. I know that you are, not fake. I know that you were never a dumper. It’s just a game of the fate.
I’ve usually faced foes, and always heard no’s. you were also a passing wind, which broke me up in a second.
Trust never lends, so now this the end. Now it has has become a trend, to wreck one a and be a fiend.
No matter what so ever. My life will go, the way lords clever. I’m happy to learn a lesson. What a loyal foe, I met! To teach me a game of chess…
The Common Man
I am always there, but no one knows me. You meet me every day, but still don’t know my name. I always cry for my right, but I am always prejudiced. I cry because of my self. Problems come to me at the speed of light, but I’ve no one to tell my plight. I want my right and, however I will get it. I am The Common Man.