Shriya's Thoughts

  Blue Heart:   My Blue Heart, Cries and weeps, As it pours, downs sorrows of streams, It inks down a too permanent blue, The dark, glistening one, As it gushes down.   Its drops are like tears, Sometimes lightening, But only in color, darkening in weight. Glints off the light, coming from the world.   My eyes, shine, but from the darkly light, And shed that single light blue tear, It sits so majestically, Holding all the regret and grief, It contains all those pushed down secrets, Shimmering, as if to warn, It will break any second, Into too many flints of stone, Made hard by those muffled feelings.   My head tells me to think, My heart tells me to feel, My hands wait for a command, As my heart takes time to heal. Nothing works, Because everything wants its own way. Finally, I dejectedly, Tell my heart one more time, To shut up its thoughts, And pent down those, Waiting feelings, wanting to come out.     Then, M

  The Pits of Love and Hate, Are empty and lone, The Pits of Love and Hate Are a wild harmony.   You add a pebble to one, You add a stone to the other, The Pits of Love and Hate, Have an unbroken balance.   When there are happy times, They get lighter, When there are bad times, The weight increases.   But there really isn’t much of a change, For the Pits stay the same, It is we who change. We who get lost in the bliss, Or drowned in the sorrow.   For these Pits of Love and Hate, Are like nets, They capture you, tie you, Invite you to stay. These treacherous Pits of Love and Hate, Control our lives, and dictate.