An unheard explanation waiting to be heard is enough for an amount of silence traded for peace of mind.
Do we really need to know everything at all costs?
What costs us when we heard unspoken truth unfolding right before our very eyes,
heard by what our ears supposedly should not hear,
gives us pain and suffering in return.

maybe it is better to let it be.
known or unknown.
heard or not
seen or not
tangible or intangible.
does it matter? or does it not?

questions are quite tricky that was stuck in the corner of my mind
is it worth it or is it not?
to be or not to be? that is the question.
maybe Shakespeare seems to be offended of me for stealing Hamlet's dialogue
just like this poem, I intended to write it
to let my mind wander free here on Hello Poetry

sometimes, I consider myself as a cloud.
I am quite emotional. I cry a lot.
I am softhearted and sensitive.
I hate it. I go soft for things that are sincere.
I hate petty things to be fought over.
I love music, I love poems and songs
in short, I love literature.

it feels like I am stuck in a wrong era, in a wrong world
in a wrong generation, in a wrong century
everything in my life feels so wrong.