My poetry/prose

I wrote this for a good friend a while back. One day when I was feeling down and very sulky,he started saying the darnest things and that brought a smile to my face.So I decided to write him something in return.

The Moon Song

I set out to draw the sun,

But found the moon u brought

Still i tried to touch its flames

But felt the cloud u cast

I say, "hey u stranger,u

wadya think u're doin u?

Give me the sun,my light

And stop shielding me from sight."

So I reached for that shinny ball

And ran to the world's end

Just as em flames came scorching

Down u came like a huge  shroud

U said "close your eyes little girl

make your wish,turn and twirl.

I got u a moon tonight

Shone right from the sun's light."

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I wanted to share something not so rosy. When I was deep in depression, I wrote this. When I stumbled upon it just now, I felt the nostalgia of the melancholia coming back. Depression is a very sad thing, if u know of people who are depressed, care for them. They can hear u,they just look like they cannot.:) This little extract was named

Beauty in Melancholia.

Do u find cracks beautiful? I do. But then I find beauty in sorrow too. I find pain to be stingingly beautiful. Once I'd been given roses for a gift,I took one and toyed with the thorns until it pierced into the flesh of my fingertips and I watched fascinated as oodles of blood streamed out and mixed with the colour of the pale white rose. It looked picturesque,white with blotches of red. The redness of my blood juxtaposed the pale whites of the rose and made the white whiter. I found it pretty and yet from another angle,the rose looked like it was bleeding. I was,of cos.