I hid my pain rotting within,
I feared it's suffocating stench.
I wanted your wounds to heal
Just as I hoped mine to fade .
You fell for your wounds and I fell for your pain.
After all, I have always been true to pain.
With every breath under the sky, I have died by bits,
And I am dying continuously without any fail.
I was born with a curse which refuses to leave my skin,
My skin, well it hides well!
My inner world is scattered in bits, but do I give up?, I ask myself.
Where do I run to , if running away could cure me of my curse!
But I was not born to run out of it, I was born to live with it.
I stand transfixed, gazing at the far horizon
And with the last bit of sunrays on my hair
And the wind on my skin
I dream and I keep on dreaming!
My dreamscape is all that I have for myself.
The one thing that I always had dreamt of as a kid was to have a caravan that could take me to places.I always wanted a gypsy styled life. The idea itself mesmerized me to the extent that I kept dreaming of it the whole time not even realising how it was time which kept on rolling but I stood exactly at the same place, my dreams could never concretize. What was laughed at as a childish game was so important to me that I keep doodling it in my memory till now. I see a meadow, lush green with those small daffodils growing by, perhaps Wordsworth's daffodils! Then I see a girl, her wild unkept hair sailing in the gentle breeze. She has a smile which speaks of solitude, and her heart , well that's swelling with happiness as he looks at her caravan, after all she finally has a life on wheels. What more could she wish for, what more can anyone wish for? It's not always that we get to live a life we conceived as a kid, life keeps on deciding our track. From what we liked doing...
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