We seem to be
a disheartened generation
dancing to every rhythm of pain -:
The dance floor
is always ready
to show compassion
to our heavy hearts –
We pour our hearts out
on these dance floors
till we stop bleeding –
They seem to listen
to every ounce of our pain;
because,
with every move we make,
our hearts rejoice in joy;
How compassionate ?
How passionate
of us;
to scribble down
our thoughts,
to nicely decorate our pain
for you to hang on your walls,
to instill hope
through these poems
that hardly earn us
a living,
but somehow
are the reason
we’re still living;
Odd, right?
We were
heavenly sent
to give life to every word;
to liberate,
but somehow
the world seem illiterate
to see beyond literature –
Or perhaps,
ignorance is really bliss,
Right?