I step outside
Soak in the afternoon sun
Call out your name
You turn to look
And then start running to me
I hold you tight
Cry my heart out in your fur
Hug you and share with you
All the stories and the hurt
You are attentive
You understand my pain
You listen to me, as always
The terrible things I tell you about
The weird thoughts that I carry around
The fights, the misunderstandings,
The fears, the anguish
I tell you all, but you judge me not
You silently wink that it’ll be alright
As I weep softly with dry tears on my face
We both lay down on the floor,
You on your tummy, me on my back
But huddled together like there’s no room
You were, are and always will be
The best support system of my life.
Yes, it’s been years since we last met,
It’s been some years since you left the planet
But I hope you’re happy, wherever you are
I hope you have a big and wide open ground there
And nobody to stop you, from running around
Because, wasn’t that always your dream?
To run, run, eat and run?
You showed me, no matter what happens
We should never stop running
Feel the pain and double the pace
You were magic, the brightest light in my life
I miss you, but wait, don’t you worry
For I’ll always remember the good old days
To inspire me to run again
And not lay gasping for your presence
For it will only weaken my soul
I’ll run again, I’ll live your dream
And thus I’ll make it up to you
To the days that we’ve lost
To the times that we could have met, but didn’t.
I love you, Sweety.
Note: Here’s another poem dedicated to my dog, Sweety who passed away around 5 years ago.
The emotions trapped, the words left unsaid. The pain hidden, the care left behind. The Hi, the Hello, the Why and the What; when it all gets replaced by a single Bye… Isn’t it more about the ego than the mistakes made? Is it right to stay quiet, wait for the chapters to unfurl on it’s own, without taking any action by ourselves? Is it right to wait until THE very end? When it wouldn’t even matter at all?
Even if all the gates flew open, she didn’t move outside. She saw that all of her companions took advantage of the situation to set themselves free; yet she didn’t waver even for a bit. She seemed to have grown accustomed to her illusory and ‘comfortable’ personal space. Her way of giving an excuse to something that demanded her to take a life-saving risk.
[Image source: Facebook]
Then comes the intensive longing for the past. Wherein you actually have to ask yourself, “Is this what they call ‘nostalgia’? Really? But, isn’t it supposed to be soothing? Isn’t it supposed to bring a big smile on my face? Then why is it breaking me down??” Perhaps, I’ll never find the answer to it. But yes, nostalgia is both placid and turbulent at the same time. And I don’t even know how is that possible?!
[Image source: Google]
“Aaahhhh!!!”, he screamed in terror and agony. A bullet had pierced though his torso. But the roots of patriotism were still buried deep under his skin. The fury looked like an inferno in his bright blue eyes. Yet, he didn’t let go of the child desperately clutching onto his shoulder.
[Image source: Google]
A tear rolled down by her cheek. Her vision blurred. And though she nearly chocked and couldn’t utter even a single syllable; She braced herself, put on a weakish smile, gave the slightest wink and spoke the smallest sentence, with the biggest lie, “I’m fine.”