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?
1 comments:
amazing
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