I’m here for you

I was broken, two arms picked me until I could walk again

and a voice whispered.

It was too dark to see, and too unclear to hear,

but I felt presence.

I was cold, two arms hugged me until I was warm again

and a voice whispered.

It was too dark to see, and too unclear to hear,

but I felt presence.

I was awake, two arms rubbed my back until I was sleep again

and a voice whispered.

It was too dark to see, and too unclear to hear,

but I felt presence.

I was falling, two arms held me until I could balance again

and a voice whispered.

It was too dark to see, and too unclear to hear,

but I felt presence.

I was lonely, two arms held my hands until I felt complete again

and a voice whispered.

It was too dark to see, and too unclear to hear,

but I felt presence.

I was happy, happier than ever

“Where are you?” I asked.

and as I felt a love which wasn’t love,

his voice whispered and his actions screamed-

“When it’s too dark to see,

Too unclear to hear;

When words are speechless,

and silence is silent;

When you’re full of emptiness

and loneliness doesn’t leave you alone;

When all you have

Is black, white and blue-

I’m always here, for you.





, , ,

Creating a world unknown,
With some owned thoughts
Turning a stone into gold,
With those stoned plots,
Sowing an afflatus inside the dome,
Of an amateur’s slots,
Penning the heart & soul
On a paper to make worth of every sole shot,
Producing the works,
Turning tables,
Solo artists executing every small job
Covering the world in all sorts,
An able being acting top notch,
For the art, it’s the shrine, worship it just like God
Wanting no favours, a smile alone
Make these words in the story, more strong!


Every single time 

I do the same crime 

It is my wishful thinking 

My hope is flunking

My hope to talk again 

To know you again 

Letting you go 

Why is it so slow 

Causing me pain 

Crying under the rain 

Eyes brimming with tears 

But they just don’t appear 

Wanting these tears to fall 

With your memories in them all 

Can’t keep my promise alone 

Your promises are gone 
Watching you by that door 

I can’t stand it anymore 

permanent transitions of the temporary

Walking down the road

wondering about abroad

thinking of the commotion

hindering my daily motion

blaming everyone around

trying to fly off the ground

reasons to run away

none to stay

looking at the falling leaves

I feel like I can’t leave

the wind blowing on my face

making me fall in a daze

stopping to evaluate

why I shouldn’t evacuate

owning my responsibilities

to the best of my abilities

solutions are in them

all I gotta do is beat them

I know I can go ahead

no more seeing red

it’s no time to flee

but work like a bee.




, , , , ,

And it was only when,
They found themselves in respite
That they knew they had to do
Every torturous emotion,
Refusing to numb it away,
They learned
What they love about themselves, their country and community
And What they dare not compromise,
how to accept
What they should not,
For his every shameful flaw,
They found a light within themselves,
That will all,
Despite his madness,
Without anyone’s approval,
But their own
In respite, not running
They found how much they have grown!



, , ,

And you have torn yourselves to shreds,
And as they sit here with anger in their soul,
Resentment filling their head,
And with their spirit so shamefully low

They notice
They have left their chest wide open,
For everyone to pick at the remnants,
Of all the pieces of them that have been broken,
As they wave you through the entrance

And now
They have a pivotal question,
“Who are we really mad at,
Him or ourselves ?”
Because the situation is evident,
That they cannot place the blame on anyone but themselves!

I am a poet.


, , ,

I am a poet.

Words which we actually write,
May tear your ego apart,
But we don’t write them.

Words which actually haunt,
And may slay your soul apart,
We try not to write them.

Words which define your true dark self,
May tell the world your real face,
But we avoid to write them.

Words which can kill,
And kill your immorality too if written,
But remember we are fire,
Just so as to light others.

Words which we have written,
Not a special gesture to anyone,
But murder of the plain page which screamed and you never heard.

I am sorry,
I am a poet & a writer,
And a dangerous one maybe!

Begging for Change


, ,

We are intertwined in a divine constant. Reaching out from beyond creation, craving the taste of sweetness on the breath of man. Starving. Gaunt on the crumbs of mercy and tolerance.

By and by, we collide in fractured axioms, filtered by suited knaves, scooping piles of poison into the mouths of the masses. They feed; little babies blind from birth not knowing the teat they suckle upon only serves to sever us from virtue. This is not the sight that forms the frame of humanity.

We bleed the bonds that silently suffer in neglect. I am not merely one of few that see! Am I? No, we are many, hidden in frustration. Igniting the night in reverent rage!

Oh, but how these eyes, languish. With parched lips I whisper prayers of pardon for callow youth. Thirsty, I hold out my cup, waiting for it to be filled, persisting on waning hope.

-Andi C E Smith


Like broken pieces

of a glass

we are unmendable

no matter how hard

we try day and night

it just won’t happen

’cause maybe its meant to be

wish could be the other way

but truth is harsh

so easy for you to

just say and go

doesn’t matter now

’cause we ain’t meant to be

don’t know why

we crossed paths

left me nothing but pain

feeling empty inside

tore me into pieces

burning all those shredded pages

everything no more than a memory

then why is it replaying

again and again

its like salt over my wounds

broken promises

incomplete actions



, ,

Dehydrated and breathless

yearning to quench my thirst 

Felt that this is my end.

Droughty, yet flooding with pain. 

I hear a voice, his voice. 

I try to get up, I try to drag

I try to scream, I try to cry 

But I couldn’t, I was too thirsty to.

There he comes, my ray of hope.

There he comes, with a beaming love.

There he comes, reflecting her. 

With dry lips and a weeping heart,

I see something which tears me apart.

Hand in hand, his eyes, lost as she’s smiling

Too lost, to notice I’m craving.

Her lips moist, as she sips

What I’m so thirsty for,

What I’m so dry for,

What I’m dying for.

She sips, His love.

She flies, satisfied.

I Sink, thirsty.