Blank Canvas

In you I see,
A million stories.
Some to capture,
Some to release.

Lets release,
Dry empty eyes.
Cocooned shells.
Little nothingness.
Hollow space shacks.
Suspended opinions.
And, some aimless desires.

Together lets capture,
White spaces.
Reigning designs.
Thinking pads.
Creative kick starts.
Endless possibilities.
New opportunities.
Focused goalposts.
Black dots.
And, seamless patterns.

Blank Canvas,
I say…
Is nothing.
But a perception.
Of shallow thoughts,
And captive ideas.

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Feminism

No boast to praise,
No toast to raise,
I hit a simple truth,
Feminine… I am.
Feminism is me.

The bold individualism.
The attitude in my sleeves.
The mark of silent attention.
The comfort of my jeans.
The scars on my skin.
Allow me to grow thick and thin.

Enthral bold experiences.
Skill thrilling adventures.
Sail mighty endurances.
Toughen gentle resolves.
Perceive grim battles.
Aim me to stand high and tall.

The womb of world,
Calls me names.
Ripping through shuttering eyes,
My feminism cuts barriers ahead.
For new terrains and green plains.

Feminine… I am.
Feminism is me.

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