Is the world so cruel and indecisive?
It will miss me when I am gone.
But now, that I am alive
It reminds me, how unworthy is my existence.
Would she lend me her ears?
I am ready to speak, explain and if needed, apologize.
But she is so deaf with anger
and so blind to my weeping.
Do you offer me sympathy?
You give me the hope to be healed and heard.
But my heart is heavy
and yours’ a mystery.
My thoughts of dying were not overpowered
By Self Love.
But then I am alive,
Not immune to torture, but broken and alive.
I do not want to be seen anymore,
And sometimes I want to be lost.
But then it’ll give you another opportunity
To remind me, how unworthy is my existence.
I had heard it once,
In my literature class:
“From School-boy’s tongue no Rhet’ric we expect,
Nor yet a sweet consort from broken strings”,
But the problem is:
They still play music.
Alas! I too have become one myself
A broken string playing some music.