BUT FOR POETRY

There's a side of me no one knows about

A side so very different from the smiling young girl they think they know...

But there's so much that I never told them

All the storms that threaten to dislodge my anchor

Are but dispersed through poetry

All the tears that could cause a flood greater than the Damodar herself

Flow and meander throw pages and pages of poetry

All those crazy, bipolar, disruptive thoughts that pepper this insomniac mind

Are calmed by the seamless torrent of emotions embedded in poetry I scribble through the night...

There's a part of me that still dreams - of stars and unicorns

And poetry keeps them alive

Somewhere deep down, there's a part of me that still has hopes of a better tomorrow

And poetry keeps that belief aflame

Initiated into a world of mortals without morals

I too have become a hypocrite - "almost"

For poetry still keeps me tethered to that one streak of humanity

But for the power of poetry to resuscitate

I would have forgotten to breathe

But for poetry's ability to rejuvenate

I would have long since been the walking dead

But for the lingering love for poetry

I would have thrown myself into an abyss of despair

There's a shade of me they know nothing of

And that still loves, lives and laughs

Because of the prismatic presence of poetry

Scattering emotions in a spectral aurora

Poetry - my ultimate metaphor for a palatable existence...