Left Unspoken

Wounded Hand

Accepting the faults, without a single reply.

Showing an impassive face, when about to cry.

Tired of reacting to others who doesn't care.

Locking oneself with walls, not bothering to share.

A lot of disgruntled voices and scolding mouths.

Maintaining a blank demeanor, in front of shouts.

Own problems kept inside, 'cause no one wants to hear.

The annoying and useless whines, with sobs of fear.

Activities conquered by procrastination.

Everyday life, filled with grief and suffocation.

Old amicable smiles, already relinquished.

Wishing that pain and existence will be vanquished.

Feeling confused, frustrated, anxious, and distressed.

But always masked with bored faces and ballpens pressed.

Crying my heart out from a dark room, filled with chains.

Secluding those hurt pools and miserable sprains.

Withdrawal to the world, yet still trying to cope.

Living the only life, even when losing hope.

Erasing the whispers that kill me beforehand.

Bright sun rays, illuminating a wounded hand.