Tip Of The Iceberg

Ever felt like someone only saw the surface of who you are, missing the deeper truths that make you whole? This poem speaks to the frustration of being overlooked, of giving so much while someone only takes what’s visible. It’s about longing for someone who truly sees you, beyond the surface and into the depths.

You came in for the Star Wars lore,
Watching me dress up, a rebel to adore.
I danced and I sang, you shouted, "Encore!"
But you never looked deeper, just stayed at the shore.

I saw it all on your face, every time I showed grace,
But you missed the iceberg, the hidden space.
You measured my worth by what I could give,
As if love’s a transaction, the way we all live.

You didn’t see the storms I’ve braved,
The oceans I’ve crossed, the nights I’ve saved.
I know we were never meant to be,
But why, oh why, did you do that to me?

Why did I beg, why did I plead,
When I knew the lines, the script, the greed?
In a play of lies, where truth is rare,
I hoped for more, but you didn’t care.

In a world full of truths and dares,
I’m done with these empty, lustful stares.
I’m holding out for someone who’ll see,
Not just the iceberg’s tip, but the depths of me.

How often do we settle for someone who only sees the surface, never diving deep enough to understand the storm we’ve weathered? Have you ever given your all, only to realize they never cared to look beyond what they wanted? How do you hold on to your truth and keep searching for someone who sees all of you?

Comments

Game Of Fire and Ice

Hey Mister, Why won't you play a game of Twister? I promise I won't play coy. Won't you love it if I were your only toy? You can be the Lion in the boardroom, Then make me roar in the bedroom. Let's play the game of fire and ice. You bring the sugar, and I get the spice. I am praying by myself these nights, Drowning my moans when the city sleeps tight. We can play the game of Super Sonic, And then have our own race over some gin and tonic. So find me, like an app can find a phone. No, I won't bring out my Medusa and turn you into stone. I have been getting over my fears, Learned to make my tears into spears. You can take me as you like. We can go until we hear the third strike.

Polished Sins

A suit and tie, that polished smile, Covering up sins stacked mile by mile. They flaunt “new love,” someone else’s child— A ready-made story, perfectly styled. They’ve “levelled up,” or so they preach, But on someone’s pain, they made their reach, With vows of loyalty, words so neat, While another’s screams lie beneath their feet. Oh, they “moved on” to brighter skies, Leaving someone broken, with silent cries. They mount new heights, they shout and boast— Scaling peaks on another's haunted ghost. So smile for the camera, flash your pride, Show off the life that you tried to hide. For we know the truth beneath your gleam— A hollow show, a self-made scheme.

Till You Sing

Some would say men went to war for women like you, But I would still choose war if it meant choosing you. You say you write in amorous lines, But I would let you be the woman of my tribe. You had your adventures Under The Buda Moon, But have you been loved past noon? So I can see you shine like a magical flower, In the quiet warmth of the golden hour. The invisible strings pull at my heart Can I do justice to your name? Caress you right, Till you sing like a Carnatic hymn. Inspired by the author of Under The Buda Moon, Veena Rao

Cruising Alone

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