By-Srujita M


It’s harsh when you feel you don’t belong.

When those promises whispered of everlasting life,

Of friendships made to outlive the world

Seem to lie at your feet, desolate,

Mere hopes of a future you’d conjured up.

When you pound at the walls of your glass cage,

Hoping your friends can hear you,

The same friends you can see having a good time on their own.

Can they hear you? you can definitely hear them.

Desperate, you plead and beg of them

To relive you from the claustrophobia.

They don’t cast you a glance,

You’re so sure they can’t hear you. They would have helped

Until the one you considered to be one of your closest looks right at you.

A chill running down your spine,

It’s a long way to the end of the world,

In a cage of your insecurity.



This poem has been published in the book 'The Last Flower Of Spring'. Buy the paperback copy on Amazon:

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