To leave by all those native things,
Sometimes home is not the four walls,
The place you know to love by,
But stepping out is important, you grow.
To leave by all the familiar ways,
Scary but the only way to mature.
And sometimes it's not even a choice,
You get left to chaos for dealing,
It's not to leave you all to be but,
Make you leave your nest to flee.
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Quote:
"I know I am but summer to your heart, and not the full four seasons of the year." -Edna St.Vincent Milley.
Written while preparing for my flight.
~Chaahat
YOU ARE READING
Khamoshiyaan
PoetryTHE VOICE OF SILENCE. Sometimes silence describes a situation far better than words ever will, Sometimes a strange set of words describe paints it years later; The limits are set and broken by the words , The reticence ,muteness and reserve let out...
