u can also check my poems named
1.the road I am on
2.lost....
3.last few lines

thank you all ! I am not well acquainted to this site ! I am new ! keep waiting for more updates :)

thank you :)

thank you :)

o hell yea

hi I am sandip aka sandy. m a fun loving guy who keeps smiling all the way ! well I am here in this site only to make good friends and also to find someone yet lovable !

Laughter. Fake smiles.
Pretty girl. Dead eyes.
Wrists. Crimson tears.
Love. Hatred in mind.
We see, we judge.
Fail to see what's inside.
Every pain has no solution,
every tear is not a lie.
Normal she was,
Fifteen she was then,
when those beasts took her,
filled their hunger with her innocence.
Numb she kept herself,
cried herself to sleep every night,
the razor- a constant companion,
and her pen that would sign death- with crimson
ink.
Violence at home,
and she would be at the receiving end,
silently she would endure,
to save her mother from the pain.
Years five passed,
and her mates thought 'she is okay'
but none could see the pain,
and the scars-fresh and same.
But one day, it broke- her endurance,
her head-all filled with years of pain, hatred and
violence,
shouted, cried- all in vain,
nothing that day could ease her pain.
Its her funeral today,
you can see her parents and brother cry,
they are playing her songs, reading her poems,
but why the show- when you could never know
what she had inside?

Unwashed coffee mug.
An incomplete assignment.
Assortment of herbs,
And the station is a mess.
Seeds scattered around,
Leaves pressed under my favorite novel,
Papers and cigarettes and bong,
Welcome to the den.
And somewhere in this mess,
I lost you, a dear friend of mine.
Where have you gone? The silver box? No!
The waste-basket? Hell no!
And suddenly I spot you,
lying down gracefully by the chocolates,
your beauty pulling me towards you,
to lit you up, drag in the smoke- to love you, dear
joint!

Messed up make-up,
teary eyes,
smell of burnt weed,
howls and muffled cries.
Stuffed ash-tray,
work station covered in white,
razors thrown around,
covered in blood- fresh and dry.
An ever present noose hanging,
pills- Prozac, Valium- luring for an over-dose,
the open window of the balcony,
and the razors- all pushing me towards the road of
freedom.
You won't see my tears again,
nor listen to the things I say.
I know I won't be missed or remembered,
but please don't hate me when I'm dead.

Stranded in the middle of the road,
I reminisce some mishaps of the past;
Hearing the autumn's first cold blow,
I decided to follow the way they pass through-

Many a times many became close;
Many a times many drifted apart;
Bt there was always you waiting,
Waiting for me to make you trodden black.

In every situations and every season,
You remained the same,unheard, unspoken and unreasoned.
While I keep talking and letting the anguish out,
Unlike others you don't even bother about my being so loud.

This strange interconnection between you and me,
Has made me the man, today I be.