My life is a mystery.........
I lay down each day staring at my dilapidated heart,
wishing that my past cold be reversed.
But can it be? No!
My heart is stained but I find it difficult to wash it off.
As the tongue and nose never meet,
so is my destination.
But then who steps in to help see through my eyes?
I keep wondering in austere that revolves around my life.
My heart is feeled with grief
Bitterness and truth have no say,
if confiding in one breaks you into pieces and independence becomes difficult.......