So many times, I've been betrayed.
So many times, I've been dismayed.
So why does it feel different now?
Why do I ask myself who, when and how?
Is it cause my trust was broken?
Is it cause love is treated like a token
Which changes hands without the lifting of a brow?
I ask myself who, when and how?
After I sprinkled my wounds with salt,
After I admit that it was my fault,
Why am I still crying now?
Asking myself who, when and how?
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1 comment:
i love your profile man
you dreamed you were tarang khunjhunwala haha
your poems i dont get so sorry i dont know what to say there
wonder. does typing with one hand change everytjing. even the way you talk
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