Be hopeful!
On dark days and hopeless days,
Survive each day like it was your last
And if you wake the next, don’t bother
Yourself with fears of yesterday; I know its hard,
But that’s probably the only way to stay happy.

I know you’ve been told to be strong
But I’d rather you cry on days you can’t hold it in,
Just don’t cry everyday;
Try your best to be your best
Set goals and work towards them
If you don’t meet such, don’t bother yourself,

Always remember, life is simple
Don’t try to complicate it, by setting unrealistic goals
This doesn’t mean you shouldn’t aim high.

Not everyone you come across will appreciate you,
Don’t expect it;
If you find sincere friends
Value them
If you don’t, be your own friend
It’s not that hard
But do not make yourself a desert
It’s a global world;

Be hopeful, again I say.


We’re all fighting for peace on the inside
And it isn’t coming
Because we’re waiting
For everyone we come across
To understand, cheer and congratulate us

We’re all fighting for peace on the inside
And it isn’t coming
Because we’re waiting
For our life to be ‘perfect’
Before we start appreciating ourselves

We’re all fighting for peace on the inside
And it’s not comming
Because we’ve closed
Our eyes to how much we’ve achieved
And we’d rather focus on how
Many times we’ve failed

We’re all fighting for inner peace
But we’d rather recount our errors in life
We’re all fighting for inner peace
Yet we’re working so hard to keep ourselves unhappy



I dislike writing
Especially Fiction,
It’s always a battle
Between the pen and I.
Most times, I want a story
That won’t be long
And I plan it that way

But once I start writing
I find the pen running on its own.
I try my best to stop the flow
To make it sound my way,
But the pen outruns me
And hits the line.

And then, I want the story to end
But the pen keeps running.
I watch myself struggling
Between my pen and my will
The will of the pen most times prevails
And just leaves me just there.

©writingcarrel 2019


Times were,
When we’d rather spare the spoon
To say Hi,
So free, like children dancing at moonlight
Unafraid of darkness or snake bites

We wandered about with the purity of childhood,
Building sand castles; playing hide and seek
Then we “grew” and understood pride

Yes…We peeped at each other’s garage and fought
And held hands when  dining with apologies
Giving ourselves childish promises, 
Not to repeat the mess… 

It wouldn’t take minutes to go back the path, we vowed not to again take

This cycle continued…
Till we hit puberty, 
We no longer embraced the coziness of the moon,
We spat at the sun and it fell on us,
It gave us the mantle to spit on ourselves

Yes we “grew,”
We fought and got too busy to dine with apologies..
So we left everything in the hands of growth.
And blamed maturity for every immaturity we displayed …

The question is “Did we really grow?”

©writingcarrel  2019

Gone, episode 7

The shadow of the sun founds its way through her skull, waking up the trees of happiness that once withered away. The broken screens of her heart were  replaced by new ones, the raging sea had taught her to be the woman she deserves to be. As she walked into the class, she held her head high, she smiled at every frown, surprise and fear. It was the first time in a long while she had left her home of pain, shame and regrets. It was the first time she heard versions of laughter without letting them hunt down her soul,  It was time to let go, her parents were gone, her arms are gone, but more than that, her cravings to be accepted were gone.

She took her seat,  and opened a page to write her new life, A life unwilling to be hurt by ugly circumstances, Mary had spents lots of money in helping her get these prosthetics, and no mention of the name Robot was gonna stop her from being herself in using them.

At the end of lectures, she resumed her majestic steps, letting these words flow through her mind …

With that she closed the page of an old life to  start a new life.