The rain is loud now, As if a giant feet arises from the clouds To step on the river under the bridge of my heart And disturb it in such a way That the sails of ships bend, And the water touches the bridge from below, Tickling it to sorrow… The rain is loud now, But actually, it has always been like this. You were there once, And I never felt it. But now, All there is Is this sorrow That tickles me from inside, As if it wants me to laugh, Yet doesn’t let me At the same time…
We lie.
We say our lives are fine.
We say
We clean our room,
We say
We wash our clothes,
Ourselves
Everyday.
We lie.
We do not have the will
To do these things.
We curse things,
And after cursing things,
We curse ourselves.
Because only ourselves will remain left to be cursed.
It is tiring
To smile at everyone.
It is tiring
To please everyone.
We lie.
But we don’t lie to hide the truth.
We lie
Because we don’t have the strength
To explain the truth.
We think people won’t care
About us.
We think people won’t cry
With us.
They won’t
Because they are the same;
They won’t
Because there was no one
To cry for them,
To heal them.
So we all hide ourselves.
We lie,
We lie.
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