By Arya Ninawe
I can’t remember the last time I truly laughed
Laughed till my stomach ached, laughed like I was free,
Like grief had no claim, like joy’s endless sea.
But am I truly deprived of laughter’s embrace?
Perhaps not, just hiding behind a painted face.
I do laugh, laugh loud to silence my sorrow,
To bury the ache and pretend there’s tomorrow.
Laughter, a rebel, a song in disguise,
A polished mirror where truth quietly lies,
A thunderous storm pretending to be rain,
A dance that masks all the lingering pain.
Some laugh for the sweetness a moment can hold,
Others escape through a chuckle gone cold.
There’s laughter that dances, like sunlight’s delight,
And laughter that trembles, afraid of the night.
I’ve seen laughter rise from awkward stares,
Like smoke from dreams that vanished in glares,
Forced chuckles at jokes, a shield in disguise,
Hollow giggles that silence the cries.
So, what is laughter, truly? A mask or a hymn?
A melody soaring, or shadows grown dim?
A trembling smile where courage takes flight,
A brave façade, a flicker of light.
For some, it’s a song that the heart can’t deny,
For others, a wall to keep tears running dry.
A symphony where joy and pretence collide,
A whisper of truth we struggle to hide.
I have laughed to piece myself whole,
To drown the screams that echo in my soul,
To paint a world where I wasn’t breaking,
A masterpiece forged by constant faking.
Tell me then,
When was the last time you laughed?
Was it freedom or a disguise?
A song or a silent cry?
A beginning or the end of a tale you couldn’t tell?