Poetry cannot save a broken heart, For people are not poetry. They’re not metaphors, To be spoken in rhymes and rhythm. They’re not set...

Maybe you’ll call me colour blind, When I don’t see the red flags, Staring right back at me, With kind eyes I believe so much. Maybe I am...

The smart thing to do often is, To let go, Of the thought, That’s holding you down, And experience the weightlessness, It leaves you...

We sat there, Under the golden light, Of the sun setting, Beyond the horizon, Contemplating decisions, We are yet to make, As we break...

You make me do, Something I don’t want to, Hurting me everyday, For something I never intended to do. Why then it makes me feel so bad,...

Tell me, Why do you hurt me, The way you hurt me, With your eyes lying, And your words speaking, Of truths, We don’t deserve to listen....

Only few things get me through bad days. Prateek Kuhad’s songs. A perfect cup of tea. The clouds. Poetry. Today, None have worked. The...

You made lots of promises to me. Promises which you kept. All of them. Only if you could break just one of them. Just one. You promised...

I guess my heart can break from the million pieces it has already been broken into. I guess it has to do with the fact that I always wear...

It hurts, Somewhere for sure, No one knows where, And why. It hurts, Some times for sure, No one knows for how long, And why. It hurts,...