Here’s a poem by Shivani about loneliness and belonging, exclusively for Different Truths.
Words from a fool, A river of painted disaster, I am not wise enough, But I am my thoughts’ master. People I love, wrinkled obsession of altruism, Lurking within my surfaced desires, A vision of fire, Flaming into the air as violent leashes of gold, Sparkling into a viewer’s eye, Golden. People can be homes, A home of our favourite sounds, When I am hurt and untrustworthy to myself, I could go to a place who smiles, Lord don’t give me bricks and stones, Huge pillars and a floor so cold, A garden with tulips and roses, Bless me with people who I can call home, Safe and healthy, a vision of comfort, It’s the comfort to my soul, Lord give me people who will not let me walk through fire alone, I don’t need silver spoons and TV cartoons, I don’t need marble floors and polished galore, I don’t need piles of books and collection of fancy shoes, Love cannot be fed in an expensive room. When I burn, when I hurt, Take me to the places I would smile and burn, Take me to the people who I call home.
Visual by Different Truths
Excellent….. Must keep writing.
Its your fodder for the soul