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#Pinthecreep, honey!

A girl walks down a busy street And is leered at by some creep A catcall, a rude remark, a whistle, Making her in her discomfort, bristle Girls are often mocked and taunted And they find it hard to carry on, undaunted Let’s put an end to this #streetharassment The next time a jerk tries to act funny #pinthecreep, honey!
Recent posts

The role of a creative soul

Having a creative soul Is a double-edged sword While it may bestow on its owner Proficiency with words, Only the individual knows what it’s like To feel so strongly and hurt inside. But the story I tell Has to be about things turning out well Else you may close your eyes and ears To shut out the vehemence Calling it rebellion Because victims are not appealing Who wants to hear about a glass ceiling? Or #mansplaining No one cares about your feelings! When blood spatters On the inside of your TV screen You close your eyes and scream But there are millions of human beings Slaughtered every day And what about animals? Where do I begin? What is the definition of an animal anyway? A little lamb gamboling on your garden? Or a terrorist dropping bombs on innocent civilians? #YouDecide Once you make up your mind That there’s sickness that’s rife The question will arise What can you do to create change? It’s more than a hashtag

Glasses tinted blue

They always talk about rose-tinted glasses That place the blame squarely on 'you' What people underestimate Are the blue-tinted ones Placed by someone else on you That obscure your view of the world And make sadness true for you I tweeted this poem to @ RealisticPoetry  in response to a picture prompt. Picture source

Wrapped up in misery

Billions of cells screaming inside me 'Don't neglect us' But I'm too wrapped up in misery To take note of the enemy That lies within The negativity that rises And turns my emotions to dust Takes precedence Over the voices of my life cells

Gripped by Death

My body is fed eatables But that's not food for the soul My soul lies crushed Like a forgotten handkerchief  From a bygone era I feel gripped by death in every pore of my being And the negativity rises Like a wave's crest I envy those who truly live They are really blessed

Writing Poetry

Writing does calm me I tend to get so emotional My heart is like glass It breaks if there's a high decibel Inside my head or in the vicinity My hate for the human race Does abate No thanks to any 'human' Instead to the word, written It's like a blessing from a sentient being That falls upon my ears From deep within