I had to face my troubles
at my first inches of growth,
which made all my childish euthusiasm bleed away.
Timidity became my confidant.
Tears were my constant rain.
The heap of hatred heavied
my little soul.
Climbing my ladder ,
I struggled with my voice.
My opinions were just passers-by.
Fluster became my anchor.
I bumbled with my adaptations.
Words were used to bruise me,
Truths hit me like hailing stones.
My voice was too thin to reach out.
I was fading away tardily.
Thought of ending my days,
Walked past my mind many seasons.
Fret of having attention hunted me.
I used my pen to write my pain,
Thinking that its burns will heal.
I thought I healed ....
Oh I remember !
I just put it in my backpack
as I climbed up
And I unlearned for so long
But It is always there .
At times when I fall to the earth ,
The bag opens ever and Anon
I see my pains again.
Salty water flows from my vision.
I go back to step one
And climb again not wanting to
see my back.
# S.A.D#