The perfect couple

Pretty as a picture

Their life seems so rosy

To the world outside

They seem to be living warm and cozy.

For the music at their parties

Drowns out the screams

Their smiles are so perfect and dazzling

No one seems to guess

The reality so very troubling.

For they play the perfect couple

Of martial life, beautiful without a ripple.

But the storm underneath they manage to conceal

Their tired, swollen eyes, they give away how they really feel.

The scars on their body

Well hidden my seams

The scars on their heart

Well what of them?

For they follow the whims of their heart,

They had promised to stick together

Till death do them apart.

(C) Sneha Pathak

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What do you know of heartbreak?

What do you know of heartbreak?

You don’t get emotionally invested

Your eyes have never been tested

For the number of tears, they can dispel

Your lips, for the number of apologies

They can propel.

You can walk out of love like it meant nothing

You, forget people like children forget old playthings.

You thought the song under the stars was a childish gesture

My love, my care, my loyalty, do you realize they are a treasure?

You dismissed the cards I made you,

Staying up all night

You go to your parties, right after a fight.

You see no emotions in the poetry I write

You don’t fear losing your love,

and waking with a fright.

You say you’re stoic and unemotional

I say you have never known love and devotion.

I say you haven’t felt the pain I feel

When I see her every day

When I wonder why do people like her get their way?

I say you haven’t felt the crushing weight

of someone’s lips as they part with a final kiss.

I say, your heart has no one to long for, no one to miss.

I say that you have not felt the burning flames of love

Of a feeling so intense that it consumes your being.

Neither have you felt the pain of an indifferent lover

Because you are the first to walk out, even before it’s over.

© Sneha Pathak [Rights Reserved]

She wants to be the star

She wanted to be like the stars

Not for the way they sparkled

Even in the darkest nights

Not for the joy

They bought to people’s eyes.

Neither for their omniscience

Nor for their luminance.

She wanted to be like the stars

For they were indifferent

To the opinions of the humans.

They shined bright,

Positively assured in their own right.

To see them in a dark, cloudy sky

To really see them true and clear,

One needs to travel to the mountains

Climb high and up, keeping aside fear.

Only those deserve to see them,

Who take the effort and pain.

For a starry sky, is not just beautifully vain.

She wants to be mystical

Like the stars that make you wonder

About the magnitude of the universe

Of your life and purpose.

She wants to make you think about existence,

She wants to talk to you, of life and its essence.

She doesn’t want to be a passing notion,

She wants to be the thought that keeps you up all night

Of questions that make you reach higher

For answers that are not easily found

She wants to be a star,

Not to make your wishes come true

But to stand apart from the crowd

To be born each night anew.

(C) Sneha Pathak

A small eclipse before rebirth

As the eclipse hides the moon

I hope you see the similarity soon.

For my darkness too, has hidden my light

A part of me too, is hidden from sight.

A part of me that once laughed without care

A part of me that I lost when, I am not even aware.

My confidence now too hidden from the view

But stick around longer, I’ll be born anew.

Just as the eclipse shall end in a few hours tonight

My radiance that was hidden will soon be my guiding light.

For I shall rise from the ashes of my weaknesses, like a Phoenix reborn

In this battle against myself, victory shall me mine alone.

(C) Sneha Pathak

When the world is too much

Their whispers are deafening today

She runs out and and far away.

Her body though, stays put there.

She smiles politely, acting unaware.

At times their words cut not her skin, but her soul

They see her bleeding, but their words just roll.

For they feel so powerful, sitting up high

Living in their little bubbles of lie.

Passing judgement like its their duty and right

Arm chair warriors, hiding behind little screens they fight.

They pick on the fallen and the weak,

For their opinion are baseless and their notions reek.

Some days their eyes continue to stare,

Some days it gets too much to bear.

So she runs away far, as far as her feet can carry

She stops on the beach, now really weary.

The sea makes her feet wet

And the grey sky starts spilling droplets.

She gets drenched, as her eyes add to the wetness.

Her skin craves a kind human touch,

Someone to tell her, fret not my dear, some days the world is just too much.

(C) Sneha Pathak

Like a rainy breeze

He was like the breeze on a rainy afternoon.

The soft drizzle had died down,

The sun slightly showed its golden crown.

She sat at the window overlooking the city

She despises the rains, but today it looked pretty.

For she felt the freshness of the wind against her face.

As she sipped some tea, staring at the city in a daze.

It was quiet and serene, a little nook.

As she cuddled up with a poetry book.

Today, she knows why she adores him the most

It’s because of his mere presence, that the purpose to the day isnt lost.

An old soul

Loneliness be their dole,

For they have an old soul.

Always the odd one out in a gathering,

The shy one, seen in the corner doodling.

Bags under eyes,

For they’ve cried all night.

They blame it on the writer’s block

To hid their insomnia behind locks.

The darkness of their pasts and their mind,

They use their poetry to leave this behind.

Yet to bleed on paper and to bleed true

They need to dig into their wounds anew.

They hurt themselves by tapping their hidden emotions,

But what can they do, for poetry is devotion.

To heal themselves by the magic of verses,

They must bear through an over emotional heart and its curses.

To take a word and create some magic,

They need to use their story tragic.

For they expose themselves and bare their hearts.

They need to let their demons consume them over and over,

Using their stories of an abusive childhood or a jilted lover.

They walk alone even in crowds,

Their hearts feel at peace in silences loud.

Yet, their poetry you can never forget,

For they gave it their soul, these poets.

© Sneha P [ Rights Reserved]