I wrote this poem a while ago. Everyone in this world has problems, and many tend to stick to the societal perception of what is normal, but deep down inside, a person could be hurt very badly.
Where do I go to open my mind?
To whom thou I speak with an open mind?
Why do they judge me?
When I let myself be me
I am tired of the sympathy
And all I want is some empathy
“You don’t know how lucky you are”
“You don’t know how fortunate you are”
“You don’t know how blessed you are”
“You don’t know how safe you are”
“You don’t know how rich you are”
They keep saying these
This makes me feel less…
But do they know…;
My mind is pacing with thoughts
Choking me in an abyss of despair
That sometimes I want to be left alone
And at times I want them to sit and listen
And do they know…;
How strange they themselves are
How pretentious they’re
Like a black cat they lurk
Like a cunning fox they trot
Waiting for one to falter
Do they know…?
That wanting to be different
Is no different than wanting to belong
That having “every” “thing”
Doesn’t add up to everything!
Ravin Chandra Photography 