Need:
I’m trying to cover up,
I’m trying to hide,
I’m keeping every damn thought to myself,
All hope of getting through this has finally died.
The wind of desire,
Arrives in a powerful gust,
But it is nothing more than force,
After which I will surely lust.
What is there to move on to,
There truly seems to be nothing of a positive kind anywhere near,
At which thought,
I shed plenty a tear.
Sometimes I wonder,
Is there any hope of escaping the year long need,
Is there any getting away from,
The addiction of a self murderous deed?
आप पढ़ रहे हैं
The Pure, Simple, Truth.
कविताLife isn't always the best thing. But we only get one. So here I am, making the most of it, trying my best to get everything i feel down into words so that i don't have to dwell on those feelings and thoughts anymore. My latest collection of poems...
