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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


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1 Comment
  1. Kamlakar Dwivedi 3 years ago
    Reply

    Excellent….. Must keep writing.

    Its your fodder for the soul

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