In my cell, too still to rage.
A friend invited me to the cell next door
There were more than just one floor
Which is something there was no way i would have known ..
A wretch as i,
Left unnecessarily some cracks behind
thinking happiness exists anywhere outside those bars,
That other than here,
Everyone is so real.
A careless guy as i,
Believed once there was a light.
I sounded so fine,
But inside, my whole was on fire.
This is all thanks to some acting crafts,
I well played my parts.
Chill, my heart!
I discovered something up there,
A lot of hearts as wrecked as ours,
Every while, one is revived !
The undenied truth is
Wounds lead us back to where we belong!
Chill,my heart!
We're not alone!
We're the rebells of our owns.
YOU ARE READING
Surviving
PoetryShe wanted to survive so she created art. It's not a roman but kind of a short essay. It's about silence and noise, about introverts being forced to extroversion, about the little secret of an introvert. It's simply about a life among billions. All...
