Was it a beautiful day?
Was the sun shining?
Answer to to these questions I hadn't have for months,
I had locked myself in the room, crying.
Crying with a pain.
A longing to laugh,
A longing to be held
A longing...to hear the cliche "this too shall pass"
But who would?
Who had the time in this messed up schedule of the city?
Where lives were merrier dying,
But chase was money.
Am I talking of suicide?
But Who in the world give me the privilege to think of the option of just dying,
When the child yearning for a drop of water or a handful of grains,
Don't even feel it's in rights to complain?
Is suicide a privilege?
Something the education,
The ever growing knowledge,
The burden, The pain of the city,
Just forget about the privileges and rights!! Why do we always need something to fight?
Be it a suicidal citizen or a malnourished children,
Why can't we be their light?
Why can't we choose love, for a while.