The sound of solitude the most scares me,
Pinches and hurts me painfully.
I hear the sounds most intricate,
of times strong of moments delicate.
The long lost memories haunt my soul,
they question my very being, they question my role.
The wailing walls invite me near,
I am bundled with nothing but fear.
The light bulb hangs from the ceiling,
glares at me with eyes piercing;
Scolding for mistakes I made but revealed never,
reminding me that I aint any clever.
I go back to times when I was naive,
and thought I could face the world brave.
Treated the world at my feet,
believed that me none could cheat.
Walked away my teens with ease and poise,
turned a deaf ear to every warning noise.
Wore my heart on my sleeve,
the hearts of my near ones I would often cleave.
My world was painted with illusion,
Wrong was made every conclusion.
Here I sit now lonely and alone,
for me the voices of walls mourn.
After a million mistakes,
I am now wide awake,
sitting with eyes open and a heavy head,
sleepless is my once cozy bed.
I try to seek happiness in joys of others,
but its jealousy that my heart nurtures.
I was the one with happiness filled,
did'nt realize how and when it all got killed.
I am strong, blunt and filled with strange attitude,
I just talk to my solitude;
that shows me the true picture,
I am sure none can this rupture.
Filled is my empty room with sounds unheard,
to me it makes sense, to the world though absurd.