It's a bittersweet pain,
A desire I find hard to contain.
So I carry it in my pocket,
Sealing it with my blood.
Naming it 'passion',
One day, I whispered and nobody heard.
My voice was strong but low.
"I'll keep this a secret,"
I promised,
"until I break into a million pieces."
Today, I'm cracked but not shattered,
So once again I cage my thoughts.
Keep my passion - a muffled voice.
"It's definitely fate, not a willing choice,"
I reassure myself.
The day would come,
My shattered pieces would become shinning glitters,
Silver if not gold.
Until then, I'll stay still,
And keep my passion on hold.