For the longest time I felt poetry belonged in the hands of depressive mortals who delighted and wallowed in self pity;in a way,they kinda feel proud of the fact that they have chosen to make their lives miserable even though a slightest shift in their intention can change everything.All the poetic soup dished out was either too cold for liking or way too complicated to decipher.
And then,one day,just like that,as so it happened(like it always does...life is funny that way!),i happened to catch hold of my dear friend's dairy.Am i guilty of crossing the line of decency and reading her thoughts? Yes I am.Am i regretful?No way! Had i not done that,I would have never chanced upon what can be called one of the best pieces of artistic creation ever written!
Page after page,i devoured her lines like a hungry animal,stopping only when i realised it's very late and she may miss her notebook.Back in my room,the poems stuck in my head.
And so,I started composing my poems...i had a diary that i scribbled in now and then...and which later found its way into the hands of my sister...who has kept it with her cause she loved them...well...that sure is an ego kick!
so in a way...this post made no sense except for the fact that i rambled that poetry can be non gory and enjoyable too...and if u ended up reading it...well...that makes u lose ...what...say ...2 minutes of ur life on a pointless post
oh if u ever do visit again...u may find some of them here...so later!

P.S. if i seem incoherent...blame it on my present state of mind ...and no...am not a teenager!