daily-writes

I can see what you feel whether it's fake or real My Heart is getting cold and feelings are getting old You say you are mine but actually, you are not  And I know you're not but damn you are hot I fall in love with you at a blind spot Look what I wished for and what time has brought I can see what you feel as I feel the same Don't treat this way as I’m not made of steel I don't show my bruises that I had concealed I hope you find your love mate, as I do I'll forget you when I'll find someone new But I can't forget your kiss as it was so true Tried so hard to burn our memories but they grew. I can see  what you feel as I feel the same I don't show my bruises that I had concealed Don't treat this way as I’m not made of steel.                                                                                      Aesthetic Pens~

MISS THE LADY WHO’S ALWAYS BEEN OUR CARE-TAKER AND FOOD-PROVIDER OUR MORAL PREACHER AND  FATHERS LOVE RADIATOR THE ONE WHO WILL NEVER GET OLD FOR WARM-HUGHS AND MORAL-RADIATOR  ALWAYS BEING A CHORE-FINDER AND ROOM-HOOVER SHE IS MY PEACE-MAKER AND MORNING-WAKER THE ONLY-DOER, MY MOTHE- EVER.                                    Aesthetic pens~

    I have an infinite number of friends, yet I'm desolate. I address every one of them consistently on the phone  Yet none of them truly knows me. The reason is this media,  So often called social which in reality isn’t. It’s so, because one spent a whole night, using it Being unable to sleep, Neglecting his work and studies And above all his health and family. Being so obsessed with this evil had what became of us And still, we are unaware of its long terms, This innovation we have is a recent fantasy. However when will we pull back ourselves from this gadget of fancy, Because if not we will stir to see, a universe of disarray. The reality is we have become captives of phones Where our data gets sold by some rich avaricious knave, Where we share all our best pieces, however leaving out the feeling.  Putting our words into request, until our lives are flickering, And being separated from everyone else. An addiction generation we have become Who seems to look cool but are not Showi

                                                                                            As a child, I was curious about my mother's makeup and how she puts every tone and shade on her face and it was fabulous. Her selection shades resembling her outfit were truly admirable. A few of her make-up products and her elegance after wearing them was so charming, And there's it was when I found my passion and love for makeup. I have never been a makeup maniac but I like to dress up and look good. I think it gives you confidence if you know that you look presentable. But I have observed from my surroundings that people are very much fond of artificial beauty that the makeup brands and cosmetic industry have launched products and equipment which changes your appearance rather than enhancing or polishing your natural beauty. But sometimes I feel like I have to dress up in a certain way as if it is a necessity and not my choice, as I don’t want to be an outcast and be judged by others

                                   Those memories of my girl-hood still lingers in my heart Every symbol driving me to the cart of my past Recalling the moments spent in joy and tranquility Being so young to worry for any type of extremity I wish I could travel back and restart the old part  Because Everything thing has evolved The appearances, the emotions, the thoughts The joy and the mischievousness is lost And I am stuck finding what it had cost All you need to do now is to stay undissolved in this world full of chaos                                                                 - Aesthetic pens-