I wear a costume
to hide this face,
to find my lost room,
with my own steady pace.

It gives me the strength
It gives me the time,
to measure my length,
to make my light lime.

I don’t need to answer
to flatter the rest,
I can walk towards my path blurred,
and find my Everest.

Many roads to choose from,
it feels like a prison.

The old road looks good now,
no one else to battle,
just me, alone
being my own clown.

This prison seems lonely,
with non-starters yelling on busy paths
" Follow your own way! ",
hauling me to their own stay..

I feel
I am underwater,
fighting to get out,
but can't.

My legs are tied,
my hands are numb,
I can't breathe.

I am scared,
I am dying!
I can't stop this,

but somehow I live
with these waves in me.

They told me to aspire,
but I found this idea a little satire.

Aspire what? was my question,
how do I find my boat in this huge ocean?

The sky is open for you,
is what they said.
But my answer is due,
I repeated instead.

I came back in the bus,
thinking about this fuss.

Am I a useless bin?
why is everyone looking at me with that grin?
Relax! you are not the only one,
but why are they all making my fun?

My emotions danced for a mile,
until the conductor told me,
"Your destination will come in while."
I answered back with a smile,
finally I got an answer to this messed up pile.

Should I refer to people’s preference?
Or should I recognize my own reference?
But I am too jumbled,
to know what I need.
My thoughts are too fumbled,
to answer this unrecognized greed.
How do I know what’s right for me?
I am too occupied with people’s views,
To figure out what I want to be?

The flowers pink, white, and yellow
standing upright,
smiling towards the cloud,
enjoying the mocktail party
with the bees singing and relaxing,
taking a sun bath.

The fresh-scented leaves
playing
with the soothing winds flowing
like rivers in plains.

All celebrating the month of love,
love of nature.

I sat still and gazed at it,
it felt like trees passing through a car,
dragging towards the sun or the star.

Now it has struck on a road,
providing the possibility to look outdoor,
some found the smiling trees,
some found the barren land.

The memories of my past stills me,
the stillness in my present bills me,
the hope for my future fills me,
the view from the window kills me.

The sound of the silence spills me,
the loneliness in my room ills me,
the whisper of the wind chills me,
the view from the window kills me.