In the quiet hours of night,
I lie awake through stillness of shadows.
Memories flood; I drift back to those days,
Where solitude was my only grace.
In those fragments of past I see
You, so lost, so painfully me.
I see your anxious eyes, scanning crowded hallways,
Lonely and scared, too bruised to even care.
Mocking laughter, their sharpened knives,
Hits you hard but you still survive.
Whispers and rumors, a bitter storm,
Leaves you feeling cold and forlorn.
Eyes that hold contempt, to mask their envy,
"You misfit, you weirdo, you teachers pet."
An outsider in a swarm of friends,
They use you, then toss you like a rag.
Do they know their words hurt?
Your heart isn't made of iron after all.
You hide those battle scars and pain,
And take all the hurt, so nonchalant.
Oh! Nonchalance, isn't it easy to fake?
Haven't you convinced yourself it's fine?
Made this loneliness your constant.
Then why do you still cry and hide in washroom stalls?
Those lunches spent in quiet dread,
Alone with your tears unshed.
You keep hiding in plain sight,
A smile graces your lips playing pretend
Oh what a sight! Oh what a lie!
You linger in your corner, watching,
Envious of their laughter,
You gaze at them from the outside,
Wondering how would it feel to be inside.
YOU ARE READING
The Nightfall Chronicles
Poetry'The Nightfall Chronicles' is a collection of poems that beckons you to travel the depths of nights. Dive into the world of my musings , inner turmoils and wild imaginations. Unravel the unsettling things that keeps me up at night when the world is...
