Thursday, May 30, 2013

Numb and Dead!

Some surmise they care;
Some disguise to cure;

Seeing my eyes, they skipped out my sight.
Hearing my laughter, they missed out my tears.
They panic erratic disapproval, 
While I prevent eternal downfall.

Isn't it my providence to pray - 
And not others' chance to play?

I am mind-blowing, yet average;
I am 'average', yet a masterpiece;
Antithetical, aren't they?

What is left for the soul to dwell - 
When it is refrained from being real?

What makes the heart to still pound -
When it is actually numb and dead?

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