Why am I of this generation?
The universe denied me joy
I now hate the world…..
It’s painful enough that I have to drown in this blissful agony
To what extent do I draw the line between hate and love?
Is it possible that I can be free as a dove?
I yearn for freedom like a slave
Because all I do is for life’s sake
No one knows me, the real
Nobody knows my smile, my joy…
The true me that illuminates when the fake pretence is stripped off
I carry hate around as though I depended on it to live
I bear great regrets that have got me whishing
Whishing I had life’s reset button
But then again it’s a wish
Since forever I will perish
I wish I had someone who could listen
And not for once glisten with judgment
I guess my own heart bleeds through paper
As my dark soul moves to the rhythm of my pen
I thought I had it all
But I now realize…. Any minute now…. I might just fall
Can I have a friend who will hold my hand?
I guess the utter silence means pen and paper are forever with me
But dear paper, dear handsome pen…. may ask…
What is it to be human???