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A Fragmented Heart

Tell me sorrow, how long must you caress me?
Will you not let go ever?
Ever I wished, to befriend joy
I would not say, I have been happy never.

Intricacies of the human mind
Can I ever even realize?
For I have let go most wishes to
Understand another human.

Love always seemed to me like a far off isle
Who's shore is all I ever could see
Glistened my eyes like polished chrome
Blinded by it's beauty.

In metaphors I shall present
Few words of truth
Of how I gave away my heart to few
The gift was refused
I, confused
Received the red and to my bed
I succumbed
Cried a lot, that I did
Many a time when from all I hid
My cushion has seen the most of me
A fragmented heart
Was always returned to me.

I always wondered why it is so
I still wonder the same.
There are very few who love me truly
Everything else seems more like a game.
My mother and father has been there always
And secretly my brother too.
My grandparents have been the most caring indeed
Sacrifices never more have I seen.
But in people of the same age
With whom I have most fun interacting
Seem they do, selfish indeed
Am I selfish too?
I wish to know, for know I not
Did none of you ever love me?
For all I have seen is you only need
Me, when you need something.

I have only been extracted
Many a time not just once
At least it is still better
Than capitalists extracting from all.
In a strong crisis I currently suffer
Its nature being existential.
How I wish many a time
To simply just dial.
A certain few I would like to talk to
But then I remember, how they all,
Treated me like a pest
I back off, thinking it is the best.

My country remains diverse
But selfishness is at large
Why is love so hard to find?
Why is it so truly
I never knew, but I hint
A shadow crawls in all our hearts
Growing with the ticking clock
In some a bit too rapidly
What is it must you wonder?
Let me tell you what I hint
Selfish is the name given
To this creature in our veins.

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Top Grossing

Humble Little Me Humble little me wished to climb that tree The one with many branches. It stood tall by a certain plain clad in beautiful flowers Each branch split in many others And they themselves in many more I have perhaps climbed a little few or a few more. Humble little me always wondered How vast the tree it was! How many branches does it truly have? Humble little me could never take count. Maybe no one does know truly If it is 10 or maybe a hundred more. Humble little me as my mother always told me, Is a monkey and that is fine with me. Good climbers they are,monkeys, I always told mum. Art is my banana tree And I always enjoyed being bad, and free.