Sunday, December 2, 2012

In my own world, on my own...

A new beginning... or a new end,
you tell me, but I forget,
when words don't flow, I prefer silence,
in my own world, on my own.

I look around, and everything is bland,
everything is cold, everything is sad,
when messages can't be conveyed, I prefer hints,
in my own world, on my own.

I question myself, what's the hidden meaning?
What's the reason, there has to be something,
when questions aren't answered, I prefer not asking,
in my own world, on my own.

So sudden this transformation, where nothing else matters,
the earth spins round, but the soul inside shatters,
when the effects don't want to be noticed, I prefer hiding,
in my own world, on my own.

But the world's moving forward, how fast it is,
but I'm stationary, like glue stuck to my feet,
when nothing makes sense, I prefer not writing,
in my own world, on my own.

And yet here I am, trying to pen a part of me,
for an angel somewhere, under the same sky we exist,
when I thought my inspiration was lost, my preference was refreshed,
and so I write this poem here,
in my own world, on my own...

P.S.: I realised it later, the date below reads 12/02/2012. 1202 2012!

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