Those exhausted eyes,
Holding back his tears.
He heaved a deep sigh,
Thinking we wouldn't hear.
"We're just the same,"
Something I couldn't I say.
I'm afraid of telling him.
But why can't they see?
Helpless. Disappointed.
I don't know what to do back then.
I have to push myself,
So I could do well.
I can't complain to them,
Thinking I will be a burden.
They did enough for my fees,
I just have to get through this.
On my own,
Without anyone beside me.
All alone,
Inside the room they gave me.
I mustn't cry nor scream,
I have to keep everything.
They are also suffering,
I can't add more agony.
I know, we're all the same.
Even I, wanted you to be okay.
But as I suffered from those days,
I learned something in the end of the day.
If people will give
what we wanted easily,
what's the point of living,
knowing we can get anything?
YOU ARE READING
The Scars Inside Me | Poetry
PoetryIn life, there are triumphs together with pain and sufferings. I've acknowledged that fact because of the scars, you've left, inside me. They are the proof of my existence and persistence after years of struggling, just to to be the person, I am, t...
