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This is probably the lengthiest I've ever written.......while I was writing this over an Instagram story, I lost the entire stuff due to force closure, and I had only retained the first two and last stanza in memory......so I re did the middle section again from scratch, but I know subconsciously that the original was better.
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Teach me how to laugh and smile
To leave all my insecurities
It will be a glow-up so much as
Just a notch up on the dial

You cannot begin to imagine
How crazy it's to live,
I find myself so out of place
Still searching for my kin

|| Plane of Gratitude ||

The adjectives you are to me
Are "loving" and "sincere"
Will pray for you to keep that way
So I can live sans fear

And boy, won't it really be
A genuine pleasure
For me to reciprocate to you
That sweet and loving gesture!

|| Plane of Gratitude ||

The expectations you may have, I presume,
Of me being born anew, though
I'd plaintively entreat you,
Just let them let be fume

I vow it won't ever be, I bet,
And this is my solemn oath,
That I'd turn into someone whom
You've never previously met

Just take my words as peremptory
As they could practically come
I would still be him
It would still be ME!!

Lately, I haven't written anything at all. It's as if I've been drained of all the words. I sometimes try to write and push myself to produce something worth repeating, but it's just not possible. Maybe I need to try a changeover

Below is a short poem I wrote around 5 years back
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The lines that I never wrote
The words that I never spoke
Haunt me as nightmares
Where I choke
Where I succumb
I could struggle
I would, if I wasn't NUMB

Most of my poems have just one inspiration......everything revolves around her.

I read somewhere that there are rules to be followed in poetry, and that there is no such thing as a unique pattern to poetry. Basically it said that if you write something that is not traditionally in rhythm, it doesn't count as poetry. I don't believe in that, so everytime I write, I try to avoid the cliché poetic rhythm that I have read all my life, as I'm drawn a lot towards something funky happening with the flow of a piece, and thus I tend to always put some efforts to break out of any predictive rhythm in my poems
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Quiet! The walls can hear you
Your story is intriguing
To say the least

Hold! The breeze will reveal—
That what shouldn't be shared
Not just with the living
But even more the deceased

Till you are certain
Till you can be sure
Let all be oblivious
Not a soul should know
Lay low, bro, lay low! 

I mostly wrote short, single stanzas......... Here's one:
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Two souls, hand in hand
Treading a path they walk each time
She let the breeze caress her curls
He smiles and holds them, "Mine!"