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bhaavna arora

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writing is like sex; you don’t have to wait until you’re an expert to begin doing it!

~ bhaavna arora


May 26, 2014 Poems

My selfish desire
Was like a barbed wire,
Why did the people object
Made fuss, condemn and reject?
Isn’t clay lifeless, sans the act?

My selfish desire
Was to be in such an attire,
For me to be quickly noticeable
Why was I denied to look beautiful?
Again, the issue became refutable.

My selfish desire
Was to drink, dance and transpire,
Within me all the frivolous remain
That I think for me had no gain.
Again, rebuked for tasting the elixir sane.

My selfish desire
Was to love and conspire,
A world of lust
I asked if there were issues of trust?
Again, it wasn’t considered just.

Why are we denied selfish desires
And consume ourselves in hell of fires?
Let’s come, invent some excuses.
To escape all the abuses
And be in the world where no one refuses.


October 17, 2015 at 10:48 am

so desires are upto the ones or around a particular .but many are refused to express in this world because of refuses here and refuses that they are unable to express as if it was refused..nice architecture of urs selfish..


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