When my untold words,
turned into unsold poetries,
and reading through those
made my eyes burn,
I got to know,
that I could've had depression.
Causes could've been many,
Maybe it was,
the separation with childhood
(when I was still just a kid)
Or, it was my obsession
with wanting to be loved
(from the people whom, I loved)
Maybe it was nothing,
just a phase, to leave me bewildered; and cheeks stained.
I was sitting, and burning theories in my head,
then I saw expections,
looking up to me, with a smile,
(a sinister or perhaps a villainous one)
then it all made sense,
as to why...? I was still writing...!
~ar_07.10.2023
