Is it hard to penetrate a swollen heart?
That stubbornly wears a cloak of defiance?
Hard enough to resist, kind words or simple caress,
Too small to bow down to eager smiles,
That heart wanders in search of truth,
Away from human clamour and cunning.
A pot of gold, the lost desire,
Yet far be gone, leaving traces
Pleasant memories to relive.
Isn’t it foolish to brood upon bygone sorrows or miss out on present joys?
To whine for a lost stray cat,
Who has run away towards sweeter milk?
Leaving thy stale self to rot,
Is it not sheer hypocrisy, to exult in mundane pleasure in the name of solace?
Who can instill wisdom to a foolish lover cheated by an adulterate ex?
They are two-faced people,
Who cannot commit or care,
Yet, who cannot survive in isolation?
They embark on revenge,
Their rigidity conceals, childhood truths, deep blemishes left indelible for life.
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