My fingers swipe away
Every instinct telling me to text you
Your fingers swipe away
Every instinct telling you not to respond
And every response takes longer
And I can hold out a little more
But I wonder if I'm in your head
Cause I can't do this anymore

When something small begins to stray,  
From where it’s meant to hide away,  
It interrupts the face’s grace,  
And leaves a mark out of its place.

A gentle touch, a careful glide,  
Will guide it back to where it hides,  
Restoring calm, the look refined,  
A simple act, so well-aligned.

کیوں دفن ہوا،  
کیسے اور کب میں الجھا ذہن،  
کہاں اور کیا میں کھو گیا۔

Buried is Why ?
By the  How….
Confused by  When…
Lost by  Where.
Busy with What

Sunny day,  
Crowded street,  
Distributing dates,  
Pictures taken,  
Published on social media.  

I urge you to stop this,  
Charity is great  
When done from the heart,  
Not publicized,  
But quietly felt.  

Let the act itself  
Be the light,  
Not the shadow  
Of recognition.  
True kindness needs no stage,  
Only the sincerity  
Of a giving hand.