i do not write poetry; i take words and dip them in feelings...
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teddy & red roses
malignant thought
Love Song
With You
if ever
bleeding words
Truth
walking away
The Dance
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i say...
it is not always possible
to put a smile on the face
and smell the flowers;
it is okay, sometimes,
to curl up in bed,
pull up the covers over the head
and hide from the world.
that's how
caterpillars transform into butterflies.
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musings of an insomniac
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Literature
by
Arti Honrao
is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.5 India License
. unless mentioned otherwise.
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