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