Collection of Small Poems

Time.
For me, is on pause.
And is simulataneously
Rushing past
Eager to get on with it
Wondering why I'm still
Standing there
As if I'm...
Waiting...
What am I waiting for?

Love is like a lotus,
floating in the middle of a murky pond,
beautiful in its perfection,
and unattainable.
The closer you get to it,
the farther away it is pushed,
by your own waves.

Am I Sheltered or Imprisoned?
No. Not imprisoned.
But I am in a shelter with no doors
and an open roof.
The only way out,
my parents Hope,
is Up.
But I did not figure that out
until Now.
Now it is Too Late.
Because I have dug myself a grave,
as I tried to get around the walls of my
Shelter.