a day i grabbed my brush n thinking what to paint
a beautiful view,a ****** beauty or an aged saint
a mirror was hanging behind canvas on the wall
saw my sad face in it as i stood up stood tall


hmm... "this is unique why shouldn't i paint my sad face?"
so unhanged the mirror n placed at the right place
sat on the stool calm n determined like a pillar
started to paint whatever i can see in the mirror


the painting of  my sorrowful expressions are so clear
from moist eyes, sad lips to normal looking cold ear
m happy to see my painting which is half complete
but how can i look happy,smile n jump in joy off my seat


the paint brush stopped n a thought stucked my head
how can i complete with a smiling face instead being sad
how can i express sadness when from inside m glad
n then i understood a life's chapter which says that

"________"

I hate everything that I have done
Hate to see that I am holding none
Yes I enjoyed yes I did have fun
Parents baked me crisp like a biscuit
and I came out to be a bun


Marijuna.. ahh.. it pushes me to past
Track folded to treadmill, surely will come last
yes marijuana depresses me but here is the deal
making me think that I don’t want to but should feel


Many people have come and more than many have gone
How can I dress well when my soul has torn  


Still few people love me the way I am
Old smelly sour pickle in shinny bottle of jam

This constant pressure is suppressing, shrunk me
forced to change myself, the one I never wanted to be

It has become difficult to distinguish between life and nightmare
Vapourization  of people one by one whom I ever cared

Several times I white have washed the walls of my brains
But can't get rid of these reappearing  stains

The stains of blood   can disappear no way
When I am the one, killing myself every other day.