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?

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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…

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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…