The compartments of life, a maze we roam,
Where fragments of our soul reside, each in its own home.
The public compartment, where masks are worn with pride,
A scripted role, a performance, to hide inside.
The calculated smile, the polished stride,
A veil to conceal the whispers of our inner tide.
The private compartment, where shadows dance and play,
The unspoken fears, the deepest desires at bay.
The weight of secrets, the scars that never heal,
The whispers of our heart, that only silence can reveal.
The social compartment, where relationships are forged,...