a mistrust,
an inhibition,
to accuse
to hurt
always remains.
a few words,
a few nasty looks,
eyes bleeding with
jealousy and hate.
what makes some
want something
which others have?
can't they see they are rare.
lair.
no one can say
the truth.
lair.
no one cares
about others,
no one has any
empathy or sympathy.
all this reflects,
that we can never
be what we claim
to be,
for the trust we have
in us is-i dare
to say-none.
we can't understand
we can't let go,
we can't love
because we are
scared to dare.
not everyone can be rich,
not everyone can be nice.
everyone has to be
something different,
why not understand
we are all different?
our idiosyncrasies
are ours,
why try to ape others?
plagiarize and terrorize
the world,hail
someone unknown
and claim that he can heal.
touch your heart and feel,
we are all guilty,
we can't appreciate our beauty
or our own destiny.
with plastic hopes we try
to mold a figure
which has no sense-
not even grotesque.
we can't risk,
we can't fail,
for we want a tale
which everyone will hail.
the skies call,
the winds call,
we give them pain,
hell,we need pain
to understand we
are living
and not dead.
we feed ourselves
yet burn our dwells
and make jewels
and use fuels
to set up a stake
to bake our
own race.
we all have lied,
we are fit to die.
every second we
dig our own graves
or add fuel
to our pyre,
we all desire
for what we never are.
damn life.
everything is an illusion.
*note: if this doesn't make sense i don't blame you.no i am not frustrated ,it is just that i am irritated,don't know with what...
