Her father has been in prison for so many years.
But it was her who was a prisoner outside the prison.
Her mom was died long ago.
But it was her who lost the precious life of love.
Her home was burned down in a rainy day.
But it was her soul that got distroyed completely.
Now who cares about her?
No one.
Not even herself.
Her friends betrayed her for fun.
Her siblings abandoned her for Better life.
Her family ignored everything for their own sake.
Now who cares about her?
No one.
Not even herself.
She was a child of innocence.
She was a home for bad luck.
She was a novel of sorrow.
So what happened to her?
She forgot to fight back.
She forgot to take care.
She forgot to be there for herself.
She forgot to live her life.
Her father has been in prison for so many years.
But she was free to live outside.
Her mom died long ago.
But she was alive the whole time.
Her home was burned down in a rainy day.
She could've atleast enjoy the rain.
No one cares until you care.
No one loves until you love yourself.
Now who cares about her?
No one.
But maybe herself.
Thinking about the whole lines,
none were about her being there for herself.
But she could've been there for herself.
Talking about all the hurt and sorrow,
she was carrying them with her.
She could've let it go.
Being honest about this precious broken soul,
She could've been stronger enough to heal the wounds.
Now who cares about her?
Herself.
No one else but herself.
Isn't that enough already?
Isn't that all needed all the time?
Herself.
Just herself.
© athirasanthoshc