The misunderstood generation
When do we get to do things that we
want ? Why are we so much affected of something
people who we don’t even know think off? Why are we so scared to express
ourselves? Why do we fear to show our love to our most cherished one, our care
to our most beloved one? Why are we scared of the scars when we go through the
pain of wound itself smilingly? Why are we scared of the pain and not of the
wound inflicting it? Why is that we are so scared to show our true feelings in
the fear of being stabbed ? in the fear of being judged?
Is the pillow that I wallow on my only
companion in pain? Only one who silently wipes away my tears , only one to hear
my pointless blabbering. Are the walls of my room ; only person in vague to
know what my heart longs for? What my senile stupid heart aches for?
Why is that my parents who adore me
,siblings who would kill for me not enough for me? Why is that the more I
receive , the more greedier I become? Why does my heart rums for people who
wouldn’t even glance at me? Why does the idiotic heart wants ,needs and longs
,all at the same time , someone or something it definitely can’t have or
something it doesn’t deserve off? Isn’t
what I get more than millions would just dream off? Then why is that I
long for more and that too when I know that I have more than most will ever
have?
Is it essential for my heart to
dominate the rationality of my mind? Is my ego more important than my
expression for love , and then be rejected quite brutally? And why is that even
when my heart aches of rejection , my lips curl into a smile for the courage it
took to express the unbounded , impractical unconditional and monopolistic
love.
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