Still beautiful..


​Her eyelashes shimmered, covered with mascara as they were..

Her fathomless eyes were the ocean that held all the happiness one can ever get..

Shiny locks of her delicate hair fluttered over her forehead..

Her lip-gloss covered lips were what formed a gracious smile..

Her angelic white gown draped her so magnificently..

Her strong physique and confident facade were just a supplement to her immense beauty.. 

She was nothing but perfection — even with a broken hand.
I’m in a situation similar to the girl in the poem(although not as beautiful). Which is why this kind of poem struck my mind. 😀 

Here’s a look at my hand, by the way 😛 


Friends stay, don’t they?


​Friends stay.

Even when you don’t know what you’re doing,

And you cut your hand in a ceiling fan,

And when you get admitted in a hospital,

Even if it takes a lot of time,

Even when you have no patience,

Even if they have to stay up all night,

Even when you complain about the green costume,

And when you undergo surgery,

And you can’t eat by yourself,

Even when you put them through hard times,

And you bother them all the time,

When you need them by your side all day,

Friends stay.


Okay, I cut the back of my palm as I accidentally put my hand in the ceiling fan a few days ago. And my roommates took such great care of me the last two days that they deserve much, much more than this, but all I can give them in return is this poem. 

P.S: I hated the green outfit they gave me… so much.

Still waiting..


I stood, waiting..
Hoping you’d come to me,
I stood, waiting ..
Thinking you’d remember me,
I stood, waiting..
Guessing you’d pass by me,
I stood, waiting..
Reckoning you’d throw a glance at me,

I stood, waiting..
As you crossed me,
I stood, waiting..
Longing for you to look back at me,
I stood, waiting..
Yearning for you to run back towards me,
I stood, waiting..
Dreaming that your closest friend is still me,
I stood, waiting..

-This was just random- Not my life –