These are rooms we live in but are we alive?
Busy making a living and struggling to survive,
There are clothes hanging from the balcony,
Some used to wipe traces of our felony,
Of the dreams that never saw the day,
And the screams that do not fade away,
It’s scary on the road with everyone fighting for an inch,
Anger and frustration and not willing to flinch,
Everyday eyes strain to find trust,
Without making any effort to clean-up the dust,
And as we seek success amidst failure,
With desires that are seldom demure,
We have found reasons to entertain solitude,
The list never ends for it only does include,
And when tired of the noise and every demand,
We blame Him for every reprimand,
Some more hours before the dawn we wonder,
Is this all worth our plunder?
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