Everyone wants them to smile,
To hide the pain and leave all that aside,
But all they really want to do is
Scream, cry, shout, sulk and hide...
Why don't we hear the sufferers symphony,
Of the ones who wither in agony,
Who fight hard to stay alive,
While the pain feels like stabbing knives.
Why don't we see her eyes,
As the tears kill their own fire,
The fire of her torn life,
As her beautiful eyes freeze to ice.
Why don't we feel his strength,
As he walks with his head held low,
Through a crowd which judges him from head to toe.
Why don't we taste the bitterness of her words,
As she tries to make us understand,
What it feels like to be a dirty grain,
In a beautiful beach of sand.
Why don't we smell the stinking thoughts,
Of the people who think he just wants attention,
When they themselves only have to worry about detention,
Who would never know what it feels like,
To be hanging on the edge of your life.
~~~
Frustrated 3am thoughts on paper.
And yes, the weird short-haired girl hiding her face in the media section is me😂
***
Question of the day
Which country are my readers from?
(Well, I'm from India.)
Your patriotic author,
Juhi
YOU ARE READING
The Real Feelings
Poetry"Today I'll ask you a question, A question to horibble to ask, But have you ever felt that feeling, Like you're hiding behind a mask?" Poetry is a blessed form of art to express the inner voices and forget-me-not thoughts that everyone gets every...
