It was one of those moments…
When I pour my heart out,
With my pen and paper,
‘Coz my silences only seem to shout…
But this time I seemed numb,
My pen didn’t move an inch,
Yet I had this sensation…
The chorus of my past coming like rains,
Yet in reality its all dry…
My mind was delving deeper and all it seemed to question was WHY?

Why do I care?
For the stones left unturned,
For the once called friend’s
For the love never returned,
And for the voices that were shunned…

Why do I feel?
The guilt of other’s that I unknowingly chose to bear,
The love of the people that never chose to share,
The pressure of my people and kin,
Against whom I never did sin.
The voices of the demons that seem to affect my mood,
And the alternate reality I could live if it were all good…


Why can’t I share?
Maybe they won’t understand…
Maybe they won’t care,
‘Coz when it comes for it to mend,
All I could do is pretend,
Only to meet their selfish ends…

That’s what makes me lonely…
Driven by nature,
Textured like a rock…
Only thrown around,
while my friends mock…