I hate this weather -
But how so?
I have never learned to hate -
Be it the one who had no awe
After taking everything from me,
Or to the deception of the one
I solemnly once called friend.
I did not learn to hate.
Yet, this morning today has a
Scent of death — death of feelings -
I cannot appreciate.
Why do I write when I have nothing
To share, to declare.
No matter how many times the world
Has mauled me or
Left me abandoned,
I keep looking for the people -
Who has adorned me.
Is this not my place also?
Be it temporary -
Or be it distasteful to me,
I am here now -
To share what I have earned.
I care not that you leave me ransacked.
I shall still find a way to love you,
But keep me in your softer side -
So your peace may come true.
