Wild Flower

 

I am a wildflower,

All around places –in every nook n corner do I grow;

Everyone can see me blooming,

But only the ones who care –notice my magnificent glow.

 

Growing beside a thousand other’s,

A few true friends must I make;

For my heart’s an exquisite mantelpiece of fragile emotions,

Which , at the slightest of faults might break!

 

If you don’t like –trample me under your heel,

I shall be hurt but without grudges be gone;

Gone to someplace far away –where people care for me,

And in their gardens, like a precious crown shall I adorn.

 

For am a wildflower – too minute to be noticed, too non-descript to be cared for;

But then, you either like me or you hate me –that is all that matters the most.

 

About ’em past!

 

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Rushin’ adrenaline,

And the heart of yours, beatin’ fast;

The exaggerated thoughts and fears,

Of the sins of y’or past.

 

But time’s an athlete,

Sprintin’ through a straight track;

Once gone,

Shall ne’er be back.

 

 

So tell me, my friend,

Why waste the present,

Thinkin’ about ‘em past;

Live for the moment,

Cause you ne’er know,

Which is yo’r last!

 

                      -Ishaan Phukan

 

Paper Boats

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We met for a moment,

Talked for a minute or so;

She came to me, like a flash,

And as quick as a ripple did she go.

 

In me, she ignited a spark,

Lighting a lamp of love,

In my lamenting heart;

Pulling me out,

From the solitary dark.

 

Among the billions,

She was just one;

Except that she lived by the river,

Of her existence,

I knew none.

 

So, with hope in my heart,

And faith on fate:

I sit by the river side,

Writing letters in loads;

And sailing ‘em down,

 Folded as paper boats.

 

Someday,

If she gets ‘em,

Shall my paper boat love be found;

If not, then like a million others,

Into the soul of the mighty river,

Shall the tale of this lovelorn lover drown!

 

                                         –Ishaan Phukan

 

Whispers never die!

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Gossips and whispers,

Whispered ear to ear,

The moment of joy,

And those of heartbreaks and tears.

 

The sizzlin’ crush talk with your friends,

Or the bitchin’ of your foes;

Shall someday all come back to you,

As fatal blows!

 

Cause no matter how hard you try;

Believe me, my friend,

The whispers never die.

 

Past the twists and tangles,

Through the iron gates and grills;

One way or another,

Shall the whispers slip through,

 

 

 

Bury ‘em in the deepest corner of your soul,

Or enchain ‘em in cages of lie;

But no matter how you try,

Shall the whispers never die!

 

                              –Ishaan Phukan