Caged but Free
Masking yourself behind smiles,
and laughter not addressed to you,
torn apart at the seems of expectation,
searching for a little needle to sew.
The needle cruelly pricks your fingers,
blood flows free onto white sheets;
they mark you as a prostitute of time,
following the sound of lambs' bleats.
You walk, stumble, try not to fall too low,
push yourself over the life's inclines,
but a stray arrow makes you fall apart,
and crawl towards the end of this line.
Your blood leaves a path in your wake,
for posterity that tends to fall behind;
they will curse you and your downfall,
but take the example of what you find.
In the hypocrisy that slays the loser,
praising the victor's unquestioned win,
remember how they call Hitler cruel,
and forget the rise of his reign of sin.
And though they love their idea of love,
and hate what they truly think is hate;
See how thin the boundary is marked,
in senses of those who are passionate.
"You hold him and pull him close to you,
his breath and heartbeat matching yours."
Now let them tell you through these lines,
if he's your lover or a child your womb bore.
Tinted glasses in shades of gray and black,
a smile becomes a mockery of expression,
still you grin, as wide as your fate allows,
letting your apparent joy be their lesson.
The cage of right and wrong, win and loss,
your words- an empty slate to scribble upon,
Breathing through smallest of key holes,
lighten their midnight by your dawn.
Who defines what is truly right in all sense,
and when you've fallen low enough to lose?
Hear them, show them the brightest smile,
But your way should be the one you choose.
---Katyaini Ranjan Choudhary
*My words have always been Rough, but the Dark in my mind can't be explained through polished poetry.