Dreamer

A sudden gush of emotions make me print,
my breath as cold as mint.
Not knowing what the next line be,
I write my history.
Sixteen , an age of dreamers,
my face like morning sun glimmers.
My insides burning with passion,
but all this is so out of fashion.
I wish, I still lived in that age,
when people knew what they crave.
We all run in this rat race,
career being its aim.
There is no one to be blamed,
but me for things I differently named.
satisfaction as laziness,
enjoyment as luxury,
happiness as guilt,
what i have become........,i think.
This i hate,
but knowing its not too late.
I'll be okay,
as I know my way.
Although from it I sway,
I can see a bright ray.

Child artist

Simi, a young girl of five,
hardly knowing what's foul, what's fine.
One day found something,
which could be replaced by nothing.

A tracing paper she found,
layered between her mother's favourite gown.
There was a picture hung on the wall,
but poor simi was not that tall.

Taking a chair,standing on it,
adjusting herself, bending a bit,
she started drawing ,
but suddenly withdrawing.

She couldn't held it against the wall,
as there was wind in the hall.
Closing the gates, closing the fan,
climbing the chair,she resumed her plan.

With great pains, she managed to draw,
and colour the same without any flaw.
Then suddenly she heard her mother shout,
" Simi, you spoiled my gown".

Taking the picture in her hand,
she gave the picture a big bang.
In a manner very rude,
she shouted at the picture" you spoiled my mother's mood".

The mother looked at the picture after this action,
to which awe could be the only reaction.
punching a hole, she hung it on the wall,
right in the centre of the hall.