Skip to main content

Never Heard

It’s staggering how some people can dismiss another’s pain with such ease. How do we keep going when our truths are met with mockery and indifference?


How does it feel to mock my cries?
To twist my pain into casual lies?
While I bled my truth with a trembling pen,
You called it envy—not again, not again.

It wasn’t their faces that haunted my mind,
But the stories they shared that you’d readily find.
Theirs were believed, held soft and dear,
While mine dissolved into silence and sneer.

And when, at last, I summoned my voice,
Bravely broke through the noise—my only choice,
You laughed, you pitied, offered no embrace,
Just an empty shrug in a hollow space.

So I buried it deep, let the midnight bell toll,
Screams turned inward, a rent in my soul.
A living hell, where shadows prey,
While I wore strength-like armour each day.

But strength gave way to the endless night,
Pressure and silence dimmed my light.
When I showed you the depths of my aching core,
You laughed, then whispered, "Let me go."

How does it feel, I wonder still,
To leave a soul with a void to fill?
To watch someone crumble, yet turn away—
But I’ll rise again. You’ll hear me one day.


Is there ever a moment of reckoning for those who treat others’ pain as something to be shrugged off? When will they truly hear us?

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular Posts

Polished Sins

  A suit and tie, that polished smile, Covering up sins stacked mile by mile. They flaunt “new love,” someone else’s child— A ready-made story, perfectly styled. They’ve “levelled up,” or so they preach, But on someone’s pain, they made their reach, With vows of loyalty, words so neat, While another’s screams lie beneath their feet. Oh, they “moved on” to brighter skies, Leaving someone broken, with silent cries. They mount new heights, they shout and boast— Scaling peaks on another's haunted ghost. So smile for the camera, flash your pride, Show off the life that you tried to hide. For we know the truth beneath your gleam— A hollow show, a self-made scheme.
Post a Comment
Read more

Game Of Fire and Ice

Hey Mister, Why won't you play a game of Twister? I promise I won't play coy. Won't you love it if I were your only toy? You can be the Lion in the boardroom, Then make me roar in the bedroom. Let's play the game of fire and ice. You bring the sugar, and I get the spice. I am praying by myself these nights, Drowning my moans when the city sleeps tight. We can play the game of Super Sonic, And then have our own race over some gin and tonic. So find me, like an app can find a phone. No, I won't bring out my Medusa and turn you into stone. I have been getting over my fears, Learned to make my tears into spears. You can take me as you like. We can go until we hear the third strike.
Post a Comment
Read more

Till You Sing

Some would say men went to war for women like you, But I would still choose war if it meant choosing you. You say you write in amorous lines, But I would let you be the woman of my tribe. You had your adventures Under The Buda Moon, But have you been loved past noon? So I can see you shine like a magical flower, In the quiet warmth of the golden hour. The invisible strings pull at my heart Can I do justice to your name? Caress you right, Till you sing like a Carnatic hymn. Inspired by the author of Under The Buda Moon,  Veena Rao
Post a Comment
Read more