I just want one thing which is only mine,
But all I have is pain which I drink in the form of wine.
God, this hurts like hell,
Why isn't anyone able to hear my yell.
Am I not capable of love?
Why can't anyone see I am scared.
Why is happiness measured from rupee?
This reality hurts like sting of bee.
I am hurt I want to cry,
And this is not a lie.
But every time I am being judged, spied,
I want to free like butterfly.
