Love
The thing is, nobody knows what love is, or
Perhaps no one can ever explain it.
Everyone have a different love to give,
We all feel differently.
We all are a being of the same species &
Maybe that's the only thing we have in common,
But we as a whole
Like to generalize & relate to feel we belong,
So we put our ideas in the mind of young
Hoping they'd grow up to be just the same.
We can't bear to see a different flower in our garden
No matter how many times we pretend to say otherwise.
We beat their thoughts with our so called wisdom,
So they won't commit a crime we call as a sin
& when once in a while a different flower dare to blossom,
We try with all our will to pull it off & throw away
So it won't cause any harm to our little bubble
In which we struggle to survive.
The world don't belong to just one,
It is for all & the day we realize it
Could be the day we can finally
Breathe & smile
Instead of just struggling
To be alive.
< s.m >
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Overdosed ✔
Poetry[ Noun: an excessive & dangerous dose of a drug. <in this case the drugs being feelings> ] ❝ When the thoughts in my mind Don't let me sleep, I grab the pen In hope to bleed; On the paper only. ❞ _...
