The Insult of Poverty
The insult of poverty should never be worn on the skin,
Yet it must be remembered deep within.
It’s only when times turn harsh that people are revealed.
Otherwise, everyone pretends to be your own.
Trust
In love, there are no mistakes;
The mistakes lie in trust.
And trust? I trust it no more.
Within me, trust has grown into a cold indifference,
Even a woman who gave me her body betrayed me in the name of trust.
Mother
I’ve broken her heart a hundred times with my rage,
Yet she always takes me back.
To this day, I’ve given her no reason to be proud,
Still, she never once regretted carrying me in her womb.
Even the smallest setback makes me feel like giving up everything,
But the very life I live came through her.
Even through tears, her lips have only blessed me.
Wasn’t it my duty, at least, to make her smile?
To Be or Not to Be
This waiting drags me closer to death,
You belong to someone else now, yet I am still yours.
And if I die while waiting for you,
Doesn’t it mean this?
Whether you became mine or not,
All my life, I was only yours.
Exchange
She said,
That when she left, not a shred of pity touched her heart.
And I wasn’t even surprised!
Because tell me, does anything in this world happen without exchange?
When I never had the means to gift her even a handful of bangles,
On what grounds would she show me pity?
And even if she had, how could I repay it?
Did I ever have that power?
And I wasn’t even surprised!
Because tell me, does anything in this world happen without exchange?
When I never had the means to gift her even a handful of bangles,
On what grounds would she show me pity?
And even if she had, how could I repay it?
Did I ever have that power?