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Showing posts from March, 2025

Two Faces

You smiled at me with eyes so kind, Said you’d always be behind. We laughed; we shared our secret space— But I never saw your second face. You spoke so sweet when I was near, But behind my back? A different cheer. You told them things I never said, You turned my peace into dread. I trusted you—I called you friend, Thought this bond would never end. But now I see, through hurt and lies, You wore a mask, a good disguise. You knew my wounds, my quiet fight, But used them when the time was right. Why twist the truth to make me fall? Did you ever care at all? Still, I won’t become like you— Cold and fake, pretending too. I'll keep my heart, though torn apart, And guard my soul, and art. So, thank you now, for showing me, That masks can hide what eyes don’t see. But real ones glow without a game— And I’ll find friends who feel the same.

The Quiet One

In a house where laughter fills the air, I sit in silence, no one seems to care. They cheer for him- so proud, so loud, While I stay small, behind the crowd He shines so bright, the golden son, while I'm the shadow, the quiet one. I draw and dream, but they don't see, the storm that's always inside me. I smile so they won't ask what's wrong, I act like I've been brave all along. But sometimes I just want to scream- "don't I matter? don't you see me?" I hide my tears, pretend I’m okay, But the ache in my chest won’t go away. Still, I keep hoping, maybe one day, They’ll hear the words I never say. Until then, I’ll paint, I’ll write, I’ll sing, And learn to love my gentle wing. I may be quiet, but I am strong— the youngest child who still belongs.

Behind My Fake Smile

Everyone thinks I’m happy. Because I smile. I laugh. I joke around. But no one knows it’s fake. Behind my smile, I’m just tired. Tired of being strong. Tired of pretending. I smile so no one asks me “what happened?” I don’t want to explain it again and again. Because no one really listens. Not fully. I feel lonely most of the time. Even when I sit with friends. Even when people call me “funny” or “happy,” inside I feel empty. Like I’m in a crowded place but still feel alone. And the worst part? Friends who say, “I’m always here for you,” but they’re not. They turn into strangers. They talk behind my back. Two faces. One for me, and one when I’m not there. I trusted them. But they were just liars. They made me believe in friendship and broke it like it was nothing. Now I don’t trust easily. I stay quiet. I keep things in. Because if I say how I feel, they say “you’re being dramatic.” So, I stopped. But sometimes, I just want someone to ask, “are you really, okay?” and mean it. So yeah.....