Anushka Arora

Anushka Arora Poems

The first time I met him
I was 5 years old
His head was as bare as the body of a new born gerbil
His eyes were big and brown and stared back at me
...

They didn't grow inside of me
Next to my heart
But they have my genes
So they are my own
...

3.

I am a poet writing of my pain
I am a person living a life of shame
I am your daughter hiding my depression
I am your sister making a good impression
...

I sit here with a smile on my face
I smile as I breath in deep
I smile as I close my eyes
And i smile all day long...
...

Sitting next to you
BUT still away
Talking to you
BUT still silent
...

Oh! Its My Life
You Turned Around
Its My Heart
You Stole
...

U and I
ooPS its Us
yOuR LiFe AND mY LiFe
oooPs iTs oUr LIfE
...

The grey looming sky above,
Rain drops still dripping down
From the pregnant sky above
We set our journey once again
...

Anushka Arora Biography

Born in Delhi, belong from Punjab....... A fun loving person studying in 10th standard... poem can express my feeling the BEST Please read my poems and adore them... ~Anushka Arora~ I use writing as an anti-depressant. I despise what I do, but I don’t resent it. I slit my wrists with paper and ink I smoke my thoughts and inject what I think. I crush my misery, Then snort my pride I’m a manic addict With nothing to hide I scream, I’ll yell But I won’t open my mouth. Headaches from silence Yet, that’s what life’s about. Poetic knife And a metaphoric noose I’m condemned in this cage With no intention of break loose.)

The Best Poem Of Anushka Arora

My Brother≪3

The first time I met him
I was 5 years old
His head was as bare as the body of a new born gerbil
His eyes were big and brown and stared back at me
I thought I was looking into the eyes of a puppy
His face was as bright as the sunrise on a May morning
When the morning mist has cleared and I can see olive green leaves
On the sleeping TREES
His miniature hands reached out, clutching the ends of my chestnut hair
Yanking each strand......
His small fingers and little toes were still pinkish
Sensitive to the touch of caring hands
His mouth made soft gurgling sounds
And little bubbles formed on the edge of his lips
Still miss that sight
Still miss that night
Where he holded my fingers tight......

ANUSHKA ARORA

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