I would not write about stars,
sun, moon or solar space,
or the waves on the shore that kisses my feet,
not even the sunshine that sprinkles yellow on my face,
for they call it
and a pointless emissions of words.

I would not write about the faded mornings,
sleepless nights,
empty lumps formed in throat,
the shivers of depression,
or the sighs of relief,
or the cut on my hand,
for they call it pretentious
and dead field like barren soil
all of it.

I would weave the pearls of contentment
out of my happiness
or dejection
time to time, it always differs
my immediate spot
to the farthest point of shore to reach
the journey is mine
and so, I would write
the pursuit is mine
I would write whatever
I feel
I breathe
I emit


By Shreya Sharma

I read poems. Sometimes I write poems. And when I am doing nothing, I am sipping coffee.


  1. Beautiful lines…always write what you feel like…irrespective of the outer noise…that’s your true shine…you know yourself the best…others have only an idea…and yet they pretend they know better than yourself…keep expressing from your heart, my friend ✨

    Liked by 1 person

    1. This piece is so close to my heart and always be. Since it has been a a result of venting out towards being called pretentious towards my words. I am learning everyday to be just myself . Thank you again for reading all my words. 💜🧡🌼

      Liked by 1 person

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