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…
My therapist says I am
Lost,
Broken;
That I must cure myself,
That I must bring myself together.
But
A broken vase glued together
Will never be the same.
A child lost in a maze cannot escape alone
If it keeps on changing.
My therapist says I should do something.
Maybe
That's the problem.
He only says these things
And give me pills to sleep
So that I won’t know my own pain
For some time;
So that I can separate from myself
For some time;
So that I get a chance to look around
For the last piece that'll complete the vase.
But little do they know
That a broken vase glued together
Will never be the same
Ever.
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