takeupthecall

They walk into losses, yet take another shot, Clapping for the victors, while their own hearts are in knots. They hide the trembling tears of quiet defeat, Painting smiles to make a friend’s triumph complete. They stroll through opulence that isn’t their own, While counting coins to reach a home they’ve never fully known. The world never pauses to see how deep they run; “Polish your craft a little more,” they’re told—by everyone. Peers rise like comets, dazzling the night, While they wait for a dawn that refuses to bring light. They watch the world soar on wings of pride, As they sit in a cage—its bars invisible, yet tied. And yet, there is grace in their silent stage, When a so-called mediocre smiles… For being called an average. Amita Joshi 

 Why couldn't you stop trying to prove your worth... How come you let your plight the reason for his mirth... Why couldn't you love yourself in the first place and not him... How many times did you give one 'last' chance to his whim Living under a pretense that he is Mr. Right... Which love did you feel when it was nowhere in sight  Why couldn't you understand the futility of this all Why not consider mighty rise after this facile fall Amita Joshi