Not being the perfect that you want to be...

For I am waiting for the perfect time

to capture the perfect colours

and let them come

and paint

the emotions that I carry

Perfectly

as if no shade could have been any better

And perhaps I assume to find it all

in imperfect lines and colours

to soothe myself in

completely incomplete satisfaction...

I am worried because I know the mediocre me

that my hands aren't the one who knows the art

to its beauty

but for the solace it brings to me. 

That I may want to sing 

loud and louder

not because the voice is so sweet

but for my heart that wants to sing

to touch every chord in my ears

which may make my mind calm

for a second that it may become silent 

only to start the chit chat at the next second

That I want to jump and dance 

not to the tune of a romantic song 

and not that I'm a dancer of any kind

but to let off the burden 

that I'm holding so tight 

it's bringing upon larger weight that my shoulders are losing Grace

to lift them up I want to dance 

That I just want to write some non connecting phrases 

call it the poetry 

that has come right from my core

which has touched my soul

I know you may not find a meaning in it

but for me 

I want to compose the undecipherable poetry of my own kind.

While waiting for the right words 

Time flew by

Not knowing the right

Moments gone by