In the memory of lost branches

It was one scary night,

There was no moon in the sight.

Just wild breeze and rough wind,

Thrashing your bones to fall apart!

But, this is not something new,

The survival skill you always knew.

You fought bravely with all heart,

But you did not know the opposition was strong built.

The lost ones never come back,

Those who survived will go in shack.

But see you are still standing tall,

There is a crowd every now and then to howl.

Drops of tears can never fix what’s broken,

Now it’s time to be awake from the state of being shaken.

Learning from every fall,

This is how one grows tall.

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About Runaway Lassie

Life is a box of chocolates. Sometimes it brings sugary sweetness and sometimes bitter, in the raw form of cocoa. Life takes different turns. Those turns and curves turnout to be the important turnovers of our lives. They form the foundation of major decision we take every day. Sometimes I worry too much about the 'what if' situation and over think what I do. But, most of the days I let go of those pointless 'what if' thoughts and talk to myself, "Listen! Being right or wrong doesn't really matter. So, just chill and be happy! Do and say everything you think you cannot say nor do it. Just let it out." It is easy for us to bottle our emotions up and hide it from the world. Years pass by and we earn the degree with a specialisation in the area of 'Pretention'. But, the real degree would be the 'Real Courage' of letting things out of the bottle. Let yourself be expressed in however way you find it is possible. Choose your medium; it could be art or writing. It is the best way you can get someone to understand you. Lassie was born in a small town in the North-Eastern corner of the foothills of Himalayas. People often mistake it by assuming it belongs to another state and Lassie never gets tired or irritated in repeating the same script to throw some light on her small heritage town that has player an important part in the history of Indian Independence. This blog is an effort to let myself open and share my thoughts out of the bottle. Most of the events and incidents recorded here are derived from real life experiences. Sometimes I vent out using the poetry tool when I ran out of long paragraphs.
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9 Responses to In the memory of lost branches

  1. andysmerdon says:

    I like both the words and the pictures 🙂 Thanks for sharing

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