A little lost, finding pieces bit by bit,
Never really understood where it is that I fit.
It was either to be something or it was
Nothing, never found the in between.
Sceptical as a little girl,
I've been searching for the lane,
Dreamt a little, learnt a little,
I've known that it's more that I want.
I knew it had to be more than before,
To be more that what most knew,
Even if I didn't know what it is that I pursue.
To be a shell in the sea, to be one of so many,
Is what haunted the silence.
But, it is slowly that I'm learning,
That even in so many, not one is the
Another one. Maybe, there is enough
Meaning for all to have. Maybe,
There is enough space for everyone
To be someone.
Each shell holds the sound of the sea,
As each person holds the sound of the world.
YOU ARE READING
Scribbles
PoetryA compilation of my poems, mostly revolving around the trials and confusions of life. I hope that these poems make you think and feel all that poetry can.
