Dear
world, do not judge me,
For
being a non-conformist.
With
egos so fragile, I know,
“We”
must no longer exist.
But
often, what we have done,
Is
superseded by who we have been.
Holds
immense possibilities,
The
future, not yet seen.
Who
does the killer punch land on?
Only
someone dearly loved.
It’s
time we hold back our shots,
This
is not what they deserved.
We
all need a way to come back,
To
the home picked by our hearts,
To
soak some pristine love,
After,
at the end of the day,
We
have played our parts.
What
sense does it make,
To
portray ourselves as strangers then?
Why
force the eyes to look away,
Is either of us a heathen?
The
next time we come across,
I
promise, I will rectufy the trends.
You,
my long lost friend,
Will
see long due amends.
