Life

Like a beautiful butterfly, life just moves on, sometimes flying high above, rising in glory, sometimes nesting in a dark place.

And times flies away, we are left thinking about the past memories, still fresh in the summer breeze, or maybe the gentle sunrays kissing face.

The time spent with friends, pranks and mischief, the gentle, pure hearts, burning with a desire to help each other……..the fights that always ended in tears and a stronger bond of love.

The time spent with parents, once dependant on them and then moving away………..some regrets but even more beautiful memories.

The time spent in school, in college, job………..each wishing to move to the next as well as the last, thinking those are better than the present, but nevertheless, creating beautiful memories.

Yes, life is beautiful, like a butterfly, like a firefly……..bright at one moment, dark at the other……..but light and color get their glory from the intermittent darkness………yes, life is beautiful.

Ah

Is it all a waste, this life and everything in it?

When relationships speak of nothing but tears

And simple words easily misunderstood

Why is it that people who should matter the most, count the least?

What is it that keeps one going on?

Is it just the desire to live or lack of power to end it all?

Why it hurts, the way it hurts, why fear love so much?

Why is it easier to give presents than giving smiles?

And hoping against hope for a miracle to happen

When the heart is wound up in a knot

It hurts, yes, it hurts

It hurts when one is misunderstood

It hurts when love remains unrequited

It hurts and it all feels like a waste

It seems like a lot of words with meaning lost

A wind without a sense of direction

It seems like a waste

Ah, what a waste!

Lost

Walking down the street,

Sometimes I think, where my dreams have disappeared,

Where is the person I used to be once?

What has happened to those carefree laughs?

Where have the ambitions gone?

What happened to all the beautiful thoughts,

That had filled my mind, my dreams?

Why is it that in the struggle to survive,

I have ceased to live?

Why is it that in order to prove myself,

I have lost myself?

Hurt

Deeper and deeper the piercing pain,

Goes to the very depth of the heart

And strikes at the most vulnerable spot

Causing a grief difficult to forget

Even when long time passes

Even when different seasons come

Even when new friends are made

And old move away-

It is difficult to forget the one,

Who was the closest and whose parting caused the deepest grief.