Acr-lic Colour

                                      Art: Ananya Ravikumar We returned to the place, that precious place,  We played in so many years ago. To return to those days, those precious days, When we laughed and sang and talked. And at first glance, it was all still there, The sky, the dirt and the grass. And at first I rejoiced, and started to hope We could go back to the past Then I looked up, and found instead of the fat, fluffy clouds of that day, Just wisps of white, and even those, The wind was blowing away. The grass we rolled in was long gone, Replaced by newer blades And though it all looked like before  Nothing was the same With growing dread, I turned around To look at you and me Were you still the girl I loved back then,  The one I longed to see? I returned from that place, the unfamiliar place We played in so many ...

                                                                  It is an era of freedom Of speech and of expression We raise our voice over the clamour We love to share our vision; Share our pictures, share our words,  Drag our enemies though the dirt; We judge what's right and wrong, We cry out when we hurt. But what about the thoughts of those Who cannot type their troubles? Who grew up in a slower world, Now trapped in ever-shrinking bubbles And what about the thoughts of those Who fear just to voice them? People of whom we do not speak Before you judge, put on their shoes. Would you listen to your story, Before condemning you? And what about the the thoughts of those who have no words to speak them? Who feel f...