The world never stops it keeps moving on We know if there is one death then two babies born Then how can we say that there is more sadness in the world than happiness Then why is every person sad? We say Life is not a bed of roses Thats why everyone is lying, crying or dying If I ask “How are you?” they say “I am fine” All replies are the same with a smile on their face but we know they are lyin’ If in one part of the world is Spring then in other part there is Autumn But we are all same, we are all in grief and at the bottom We say the words we dont really mean And when we are alone all we do is scream And now I have given up which once was not an option to me From the dark hole the world I see Is brabaric, savage and suffocating We all eat the fruit of hating and its the cause of fuss we are creating We are crowded by the people Yet we are all alone They think they are goldstone But actually everyone is a moron If you are feeling anxious Then throw the paint on canvas Pick up your pen and let it flow Write beautiful poetry when you are at your low