We want people to read our diaries… or we wouldn’t be writing them

We want people to read our minds… but we confuse them with words

Silence speaks… but we cut it in between for random conversations

We day-dream… but we are scared they might just come true

The obvious for you… is sitting on my blind spot

Like energy, love can neither be created nor destroyed… it can only be transformed from one kind to another and be transferred from one thing (read: person) to another…  

Can’t get more arbitrary than this… read the verse below

Random thoughts of insanity
Running across my mind
Like the breeze
Through my hair
As sand on a seashore
Slipping beneath my feet
Tucked them away,
Beneath the sand
The waves washed them away
Took them to the ocean…
To the land beyond…
To the clouds up above
So that one fine day
The rains bring them back
To the world, to me
I’ll be drenched with my own
Random thoughts of insanity
Running down my body
Not knowing this time
Where to tuck them away
The world will then spot
Random thoughts of insanity
Probably by then they
Wouldn’t be random
Wouldn’t be insane anymore…

 © Rakshita Verma
June 11, 2008