"You know what? I think the problem,
Is that people can't see us.
They can't see our struggles of our pain,
Because our soul is scarred and our hearts are wounded,
But our body is perfectly moulded.
If only all our pain was transferred to our body,
Then they would notice us.
They will see us as a wounded and a hurt dog,
But we'll know that we are soldiers at war,
At a never-ending, numbing and just crushing-you-slowly war."
She whispered all this gently at 3 am,
And somehow the words just merged well with the windy night.
Making her smile despite her fight.
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Terrible tiny tale (#YourStoryIndia)
RomanceJust another Terrible Tiny Tale A collection of small poems (or rather haiku) that speak the brutal truth, about the world we live in..
