She's Dying.

[This was my entry post on Darlings Of Venus (DOV). And we can repost on the weekends, so here it is! :D ]

She's tired of the lies she's heard all of them say,

She's lost, she just cannot find a way.

She's seen them all smiling when she was smiling too,

And then they spoke their mean words, turned their backs

When her life was going off the track..

She learnt the hard way, that nothing and nobody are permanent.

That sometimes life gives you a rude shock,

It calls for your tears, your pain, it drives you insane.

But now she knows who will be there for her, and who all wont.

Now she's aware of the sink holes in her life.

Her mood is down in the trash, in the bin,

She's sick of feeling that way within.

She's this close to giving in.

If you know what to do, help her.

Because she is trying, but she knows she is failing. 

She's broken on the inside, and she is dying!

Ignore the English please! :P

I'd written this when I was 13, 4 years ago. Hope you liked it?

XoXo,

Ni.

Do not stand at my grave and weep.

" Do not stand at my grave and weep,

I am not there; I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow,

I am the diamond glints on snow,

I am the sun on ripened grain,

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning’s hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circling flight.

I am the soft star-shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,

I am not there; I did not die."

Mary Frye, who had never written any poetry, but the plight of a young German Jewish woman, Margaret Schwarzkopf, who was staying with her and her husband, inspired the poem. She wrote it down on a brown paper shopping bag. 

Margaret Schwarzkopf had been concerned about her mother, who was ill in Germany, but she had been warned not to return home because of increasing anti-Semitic unrest. When her mother died, the heartbroken young woman told Frye that she never had the chance to “stand by my mother’s grave and shed a tear”. Frye found herself composing a piece of verse on a brown paper shopping bag. Later she said that the words “just came to her” and expressed what she felt about life and death.

The poem was introduced to many in Britain when it was read by the father of a soldier killed by a bomb in Northern Ireland. The soldier's father read the poem on BBC radio in 1995 in remembrance of his son, having been left it in an envelope addressed 'To all my loved ones' in his personal effects. 

What beauty! Sometimes such people come out of relatively nowhere and remind us why we are called humans. Humane. Creative. Super intelligent.

And the context, the words used, the feelings conveyed in the poem, I don't even have to say anything. 

Gobsmacked.

XoXo,

Ni.

Stay.

Would you stay if I ask you to?

Would you care if I tell you I love you?

Don't leave me hanging in here.

Don't leave me at all.

I need you close to me, need you near ..

Miss the train. Pull me close.

Hug me tight. Kiss my nose.

This is like a continuation to my previous poem 'Goodbye'.

XoXo,

Ni.

P.S : My main blog 'Tales of and by her' completes one year on the 1st of July. Drop by sometime :]

I let them have their way with me..

Helpless, I let them have their way with me.. My heart bursts in pain.

My fists are clenched. Trying but I cannot stop them.

Moistening my cheeks, burning me on their way down.

Tears.

XoXo,

Ni.

Do It My Way.

I am not going to give up, because I still want to try.
I'm not going to wipe my face, and fake a laugh when I still want to cry.
I am not going to say yes,I understand, when I simply don't.
I am not going to tell you I will do it, when I know I wont.

I am not going to say I got it, when I still want to know.

I am not going to lie, and say that I don't cry.
I'm not going to say I don't care, and be unfair.
I'm not going to scream and then ask you to keep it low.
And I'm never going to say that I'm over someone, when I can't let them go...

XoXo,

Ni.

I'd Rather Die.

[This is a poem I'd written reading some book,I don't remember now,but yeah. Enjoy!]

You said that you had had enough, and that you couldn't stand any more drama.
Basically, any of my stuff.
I realized it quite late, that you were out there, waiting in the rain, and now I'm swept with guilt.
I'm going insane.

Tell me you're going to give me a do-over. Tell me you're going to forgive me.
Coz I'd rather die, than hear that we weren't just meant to be.

I thought you were too serious, Didn't realize I was seeing it through my extremely sheltered eyes.
Now I understand that you were just being cautious and wise.
You taught me to be responsible, while all I did was accuse you of being drab and dull.

Tell me you're going to give me a do-over. Tell me you're going to forgive me.
Coz I'd rather die, than hear that we weren't just meant to be.

And now I can't sleep, I'm brimming with self hatred and regret.
And I am afraid you're going to forget.
Please don't do that to me?
I want need you back, the old us, the old we.
So I'm sending you a letter, with my heart in.
Please look beyond the mess that is me, understand what's within.

Tell me you're going to give me a do-over. Tell me you're going to forgive me.
Coz I'd rather die, than hear that we weren't just meant to be.

Yes,I'd rather die, than hear you say this.
So come on over and prove it wrong.
Sometimes things do work out, with a magical kiss.

I'm no longer the child, that I was before.
I know you were the reason my career rose and soar.
So just tell me quick, that you forgive me.
Because I'd rather die, than hear, that we aren't meant to be, just aren't meant to be...

XoXo,

Ni.