With your satiny hairs,
You amble without a normal foot.
But with a pristine look,
Your big eyes shines luminously.
Dear, Maybe people call you a handicap,
I call those bullocks a madcap.
Interestingly, what, I am a handicap mentally, here I reveal.
Everyday I fight inside the close door when night falls.
A few days ago your eyes have cried a lot,
Let me clear here, you are a daring person.
It gives me a reason to fight with his servants openly.
You are a bizarre, I don't know you Monica Sharma.
Though we did not shook our hands at all,
But whenever these eyes squints you,
A new story creates a History...

He walks up to her.
She's lost in thought.
He waves his hand in front of her.
He asks if she ok.
She said she's never ok.
He takes her hand.
He tells her he's gonna help her get through this.
She starts to cry.
He embraced her in a hug.
He sees the cuts.
He tells her not to cut herself.
She tells him that it's the only way to escape.
He tells her he will stay by her side.
When she needs someone to talk to.
Or if she needs to just sit there and cry.
He will always be there for her.

When people ask me if I'm okay.
I tell them I am.
But I'm really not.
I have a lot of bad thoughts.
I try to pretend I am happy.
But sometimes it doesn't work.
When someone tells me something I don't like.
I just tell them it's okay.
Or.
I don't care.
But I do.
I don't like when people worry about me.
So I try to act like every thing is okay.
Sometime I actually think that people believe me.
Inside.
I'm dying.
Inside.
I'm crying.
Outside.
I have a smile.
Outside.
I'm happy.
Inside.
I'm never okay.

It sounds like a broken record
Feels just like a revolving door
When another tin-star soldier
Explains what somebody died for
When both sides are crying "justice!"
But when all things are complete
There's another broken family
There's more blood out in the street.

And there's nobody to answer for
The systemic elimination
Of innocent black men and boys
Across this old and broken nation.
When guilt is predetermined
And last resorts become reflex
A whole race of Americans
Are forced to worry "Am I next?"

You don't have to like the truth
In order for the truth to be.
You can cry out furiously
When men in protest take a knee,
But if you deny the evidence
When the truth is brought to light
Then, you're a sucker or a liar,
Either way, you're just not right.

Falling out of love
Cradling into grief
His heart left long ago
A crowd without a show

Everything left me
Empty like a store
Dark in after hours
Sign blinking closed

Now and forever
He and I stand
Hand in hand
Eyes averted
To different lands