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Jan 2021
Nobody knows what
I feel inside
Because it is a pool of memories
Too deep to swim in
Beyond consolation

Nobody knows the
Pain I deal with daily
Its like a card game I'm addicted to
And a losing one played by fools
Beyond encouragement

Nobody knows the hurt
I carry with me
Its a glass pane that has shattered
And the broken edges have carved out a piece of me
Beyond recognition

Nobody knows the regret
I pull like dead weight
Its as heavy as the sky on earth
It is always hovering over my head
Beyond reconciliation

Such is isolation
Inescapable
Complete.
Happiness in intelligent people is the rarest thing I know.
Ernest Hemingway
Splashes of Surreal
Written by
Splashes of Surreal  25/M/New Delhi, India
(25/M/New Delhi, India)   
185
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