I was never a sincere person to begin with ,
Maybe I pretended to be when I wasn't aware ,
My foolishness of being young
As if,
Later down the road of my fumbling fortune,
I saw God in my father,
Unshaken and rigid
Like a tall man
He was always there ,Hovering
Above my being ,
I could tell he was always angry
Because that's all that he showed in himself,
Maybe he didn't know any emotion
Or
Couldn't express what he felt ,
And that was that ,
That's all I remember and know
But on unfortunate days ,
I'd hear him laugh out of the blue
And
That felt like something has been lifted off my heart ,
You see ,when you live with an angry person
You may not know the reason
But it'll always feel like it's you,
Narrowed down to all his miseries,
Was you.
So I learnt the art of being silent ,
The loudest cry of all,
The kind of silence that hides behind immaturity,
Recklessness, numbness, giggles--
A monster so afraid
That it was afraid of itself.
All...