We’re all stars, in our own galaxies. And at the heart of each star that now so brightly twinkles, is a passionate fire that’s feeding on it. The fire that burns, makes it a star. The fire that’s not going to let up until it consumes it completely. The star wants to show gratitude to the people it loves, but now all it can do from afar, is burn a little more and twinkle a bit brighter. Such is the life of every star. It burns, it shines; it cools, it dies.
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Something beautiful about the people I do not choose
There’s something beautiful about the people I do not chaseThe people who find meThe people I am not looking forThe people I let go, the people who stayThe people who think of meThe people I am unmindful ofThe people who like my companyThe people I do not make much time forThe people who have meContinue reading “Something beautiful about the people I do not choose”
Somesh | Katyayan 