- A Show Stopper -

I, an avid reader and writer, write poems that are usually an escape, a way to express my feelings and somethings that are often not spoken off.. This blog has those poems I wrote, some I liked, some random and mostly those which helped me...in a hope, they help you too.. :) --Yours truly, Jazz.


Saturday, November 05, 2011

A walk at the beach...

A friend of mine wrote this piece...it was so true, I decided to post it here! I liked it, hope you like it as well.


          I was walking, I don't know for how long maybe 3 or 4 hours. I had set out from home in an old khaki pants, a brown top and a black cardigan, wearing flip flops. My long hair were tied in a mess. I didn't know where I was headed. My legs were sore with pain and so was my heart. Maybe it was right not to expect things to happen but still I was obsessed. With the help of moonlight, I walked on. Now I had made up my mind it was the beach that was going to hear me cry tonight. I started walking downwards to the beach. At a point I removed my flip flops.

         I walked further till the sea. I could feel the waves splashing at my feet. I didn't care whether it was a high tide or a low one and somewhere I actually wished the waves would take me along. A normal person who is alone at night at the beach would feel totally at peace. But with me, the case was exactly opposite. It was difficult to decide who was more fierce, me or the sea. I had a heap of frustration stored in me but I usually like to cover it with a smile. That was the reason I acted like a drunkard, crazy. The reality was too hard to face; I am lonely. I was dying a little bit inside every time I saw his face, I so pathetically wished for him to be mine but Ha! who was I kidding? He always thought of me just as a friend, I was an insignificant part of his life but he didn't know that he basically made up my life. The time when I actually laughed; not pasted a smile on my face was when I was with him. His witty jokes and how he pulled my leg and made me laugh, made me realize how his existence really mattered a lot. But again for him, I was just a friend. Yet, there were times when he held my hand a little longer than usual or kept staring at me with his piercing hazelnut eyes, made me feel that somewhere he might have some little feelings. Shucks, no - it wasn't that way, he just knew that inside I was very lonely and he wanted me to get over it. He was just being a good friend. What could I do? I had started seeing him as more than one. I just wanted a way out.

             By now, I was all wet. Not only because of the sea, but because of my tears. I so wanted to be done. Once again, I made up the same resolution I knew I couldn't follow. Ignoring him was hard.

I looked at the black sea and the white moon one last time and somehow I was just amazed how they complemented each other so well. I put on my flip flops and started my way back home with a heavy heart and moreover a resolution, bound to break.


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