DISASTERS

I have worked so hard on the following poem to get the perfect essence of feeling lost. I hope You guys will really like this one.

Dull, unpleasant and foul is the picture I paint,

the stars, the rainbows and the mountains,

Are all there behind the blacks.

Dices roll and the pain begins,

A game of aches, sorrows and regrets,

Gets easier each time.

Meaning of endless stares, the untimely excuses and all the unsaid things,

Are not meant to be understood.

My un-bothered laughs, my calm words

and my beautiful smile,

Are a veil on,

The fallen apart life, the crisis of an individuality and the wounds of a tormented soul.

Have I achieved the peace that people long for,

Or this illusion is too perfect?

Have I lost the sanity once I had,

Or this insanity is too beautiful?

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