Am I a hesitant Poet??

Enough of a definition.
Enough of a definition.

Initially about six to seven years ago when I started to write I never wanted anybody to read whatever I wrote. I had a sense of embarrassment whenever I tried to read something I wrote, May be because I was very static and rational on the outside yet inside I had a sea of emotions. At a home where you live with four other naughty siblings of yours it’s just not too easy to maintain and keep everything you write in a secret diary Slowly I progressed and started showing my writings to my Best Friend and still whatever I write the first person whose compliment and every word really matters is her. I’ve loved her endlessly and I’ll always continue doing so… Now I am completely comfortable sharing them on WordPress and sending them to a few selective people.

Never wanted it opened.
Never wanted it opened.

The thing I hated about Poetry is that you have to open up your heart in front of everyone. People can actually predict and judge what you are going through and not everybody can understand. That’s the only thing that refrained me from sharing my writings in the past and still it does, As I seem more like a reserved, rational, composed and emotionally stable person ( Although on the inside sometimes I am not). I like staying that way.

A few months ago when I wrote this poem (I would have never let you cry) and showed it to a friend. He appreciated me and asked me to write something specifically just for him. When I requested him to suggest a topic or a starting line, He said “Since the day I met you, It feels like you complete the missing me”, This line seemed beautiful and I started thinking of the next line that I am gonna write “Never devised;never imagined, how different a man can ever be“. My friend claimed that he liked it but you know sometimes it becomes quite difficult to believe a person who gives compliments for formality because you never know when they really mean it and when they are just being nice and formal.

Anyways, continuing a poem with these two lines was quite hard chiefly because I am not habitual of writing on topics,Since I didn’t write the first line so continuing in fluency was not easy and mainly because I don’t believe what I said. I never believed that any man could be different or reliable or protective (except my Dad). Whenever I thought about continuing the poem I was always overwhelmed by the thought that I don’t mean whatever I wrote. I always write whatever I feel but this time? … I don’t claim that I don’t lie but at least I have never lied in any of my writings. Finally I decided to write something which would not comprise of any details on how different is he? and what makes me think that he is different.This picture reminds me of the creativity that I’ve mentioned in my poem. I knew that he actually wanted to know how I think but still I ended up writing something which won’t tell him that. The poem goes like this

Falling leaves.
Falling leaves.

Once I stood and gazed the wilted leaves of autumn,

Felt apart, weakened and blown to the fathom,

Silent themselves, but yet a rustling sound,

Tinges of gloom, As they were actually meant for the ground.

There I stood and tasted the tint of springs,
The shades of leaves, bound to their wings,
I gazed and gazed the finest leaf that shines,
And wondered whose smile this shine reminds,
It smiled ; I smiled … We smiled.

I sensed the satisfaction in it’s smile,
The shades of the weather, filled it with pride,
I smiled wondering again as i sighed,
It sensed the completeness in my smile,
So watched and asked the reason behind,
I winked and smiled, as i replied:

“Since I met him it feels like he completes the missing me,
As I never devised; never imagined, how different a man can ever be.”

As usual I showed it to my best friend and she loved it. She always loves whatever I write. Half of the reason can be that she loves me and she actually knows why and for what I write. When I showed it to my Friend for whom it was written he said it’s great. But yet the same thing, I sensed in his tone that he was just being nice. He didn’t quite like it and asked, “Where am I in your poem??”, I always knew that he wanted me to write in his appreciation but I never thought he would ask that. I just tried to joke around “It’s all about me and autumn and the beautiful spring and leaves”.”But where am I??” as he asked I committed to write another one because he didn’t like this one. He didn’t say that either but I know he was not quite satisfied.

Is shyness an Excuse???
Is shyness an Excuse???

Now writing it all again was another big deal for me. That simply meant I had to elaborate the point that why do I consider him different when I actually don’t.When I started thinking my mind I found that half of me believes him this way and half of me doesn’t. As I discussed it with my best Friend she said I can probably use these mingled thoughts beautifully. I knew that if I write it in this way my Friend is not gonna like it. I knew he wanted something sweet,something special,something that I wont say otherwise and I felt deprived of it all. I know he has always been sweet,kind but yet so silent that one would always suspect that I am imposing myself on him. I know I seem like a paranoid when I say that believing men is hard for me but I’ve seen that how far a man can go for his needs and wishes, and that is the biggest wall which makes me stay away from trusting them. I know he would not like me for saying these words as he has always been careful while speaking whereas I am the exact opposite. Expressing myself was always and always very difficult and with formal people it becomes even more than that. I am abrupt and I know that there are things that I utter and he doesn’t like.The same goes right now, I know that the second poem on the same topic will also not be liked by him. Yet I still write it because I wanted to and I am not gonna show it to him (A tiny mini Secret). It’s all about what he says and how I partly believe it and partly don’t.

Since the day I met you it feels like you complete the missing me,

Hopes bring Changes.
Hopes bring Changes.

Never devised; never imagined how different a man can be,

A part of me just says that aloud,
A part of me simply refuses with it’s doubts,
“Not everybody is the same”, that’s what you say,
I listened and thought that one day I may,
But it would take ages to admit and see,
As I’ve seen the worst that a man can ever be.

“A man stays a man”, that’s what I say,
“Nature never changes”, that’s how I say,
A part of me just says its true,
Other part says the exception is you,
“Exceptions always exist”, that’s what you say,
I fear believing them would make me pay.

Since the day I saw you I knew we were different,
With your heart beating for every girl that passed,
And I smiling aside, knowing that it won’t last,
Chidship; sweetness, that’s what I say,
A ration for your heart, that’s how I say.

You had your own distances,
I had my own differences,
You chose to be rational where I stood insane,
Where you stood accomplished, I was all in vain,
A part of me says love binds by it’s ways,
A part of me just laughs, laughs and strays.

You say “That’s not it, some men do change”,
It may seem strange — But yet who would change?

Weekly Writing Challenge: Time for poetry


  1. Insightful words–both your poem and thoughts on trying to write for someone else. I don’t believe one can write for another, only what comes from one’s heart.
    Mihrank’s reblog of this led me here…quite an interesting place. 😊


    1. Thank you for the compliment W.K Tucker.
      I believe the same. But you see writing and creativity is a whole new world. The more you go towards it the more you open up and explore yourself.
      Exploring and trying can make wonders and at the end there’s nothing which you can’t achieve by trying hard.
      Thanks again for your precious time. 🙂


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