Same Old Things

Every new day,
a new date with the same old sun
a new morning to say hello,
to the same old bed and me.

the light too bright for the half opened eye,
but the time too early for the scorching heat,
years of a lifetime, have left a hundred scars on my body,
and a thousand more on this small heart.

i was never too wise to understand,
how this world runs the rat race,
never a fool to disobey the rule,
and say i am not a part of it.

so when i look at the ugly marks,
i feel happy,
as they remind me how long i have come.
and tells me that no matter how much
i was beaten, shaken or sabotaged,
i came out stronger with each blow.

ugly as they are,
they let you believe they are not beautiful
then i let you curse these little marks here and there
a few on the legs coz i walked a path i loved
a few on the hands as i did what i felt was right
a few more on the face as i never gave up

after all this, the mirror only tells me
that i am beautiful
more beautiful that all the metaphors he can think of
and it feels good again
coz i still have that sparkle in my eyes
and that broad smile that can stop
your heartbeat for a moment.

but what about the scars on the soul?
unseen, untouched
but only felt
with great pain and angst.

they heal with time
coz i have a bad memory
i forget too easily
all that made me cry
but only after i let the reason
of these scars pay for it…. heavily

no i am not servile
nor am i some monster of misfortune
i just try to be careful with people
coz i know you have expectations
and i know i am not perfect
and i may hurt you in the end

so my best friends- my books, rapidly flip their pages
as the alarm for the morning
telling me i gotta go out in this world
and struggle my way through a glass ceiling
a temptation to fight and win
stepping out is the only option left…
it still feels bad to be who i am not
maybe, just maybe
there are many more scars in the making……….


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