I am not reserved,
I am not shy
but then , I do not know why...
I cant stand crowds
I am not running away ,
NO ! I am not running
but I know not why
I cannot stand places
which of familiar things
leave traces
I cannot stand words
which often than not
act as swords.
I seem to have a broken wing
but cant stop flying
I have nightmares every night
but cant stop dreaming
I see myself broken in my own sight
broken, bent and twisted
beyond all repair
but I cant stop walking.
I see in myself a pessimist
I see not an ounce of hope
Seem to keep losing things
but cannot begin to grope
I fear life , my own life
but I cant stop living
Stubbornness or is it persistence?
that thrives like weeds in wilderness
Hope is that beggar .. refusing to go
If not today, another day
to whom a rupee I must forgo...
give into it , fall in its trap
Is that why I cant stop breathing?
I am not reserved ,
I am not shy
But I know not why...
I guess I am a loner ...
but then it comes back to me
I guess Im a "Goner".
Am I .... Am I not?
1 comment:
Hope is a wonderful thing. You are an optimist
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