Perennial Poetry

  Her When the whole world praises her beauty, Only she knows the stories behind her scars, The things she goes through quietly, And the days she feels like she’s put behind bars. Sometimes she fakes a smile, For the sake of her and everyone else; She is appreciated for her unprecedented style, But who cares about the things she never tells? She wears her heart on her sleeve, She undoubtedly is an admiration; But would anyone really believe The life she lives behind people’s perception? She cares and she loves, She offers endless support without hesitation; But she also cries and questions Her worthiness despite the external perfection. She knows her scars mark her stories, They make up who she is; Despite all her glories, There is always more to who she is. -Jaanvi Veluguleti

The Figuring Out I’m constantly learning, How to get going, All by myself, Without anyone’s help. I’m trying to figure out, Sometimes alone and other times by crying out loud, What to do in a circumstance, When I’m unable to predict the consequence. I try to pick myself up constantly, Put on a smile genuinely, Wear my heart back on my sleeve, Even though I want to give up and leave. Though it might look flawless from the outside, Only I know how lost I feel on the inside. I’m not perfect, I heartfully swear, ’Cause of that, I’m perfectly well-aware. It is tough, getting back up, When I do not know when what can come up, To weigh me down and crush me to the ground, Challenging me to help myself, with no one around. This learning and unlearning is continuous, At times, I am pushed to act spontaneous. But from all the broken glass pieces, I rise up like a mirrorball with a million faces. I will continue to figure out, Enjoy the process and be proud. This is my journey after all, I am only...