All I look for is the blue in someone hoping it will turn to purple, then to crimson and then to red, only to revert back to blue. I desperately search for ways to capture this transition. To look for the silver lining in the bittersweet. Poetry comes handy. With the power of expression, one has a chance to self-reflect, the best in us and the worst in us too. Carrying a feeling of impending doom over me all the time, I chose poetry. To express. To vent out. To rant out. To be myself. Poetry ...