We have lost touch and sense of those close to us—
the scent of flowers and rain seems to be a distant memory,
the unfiltered open laugh is just a pretense
the unfettered thoughts have been dungeoned in the corner of our minds,
In ruination of our own opinions and dearth of approval,
have we crept in to wear longer hours of solitude—
a shallow priced self esteem looms over,
we tidy and tailor our demeanor only to appease those that surround us
Oh, what world hath become!
We gnaw at our own happiness; creasing upon pages of bliss found in little connections,
we are confound and caught in our own man made puzzle—
while most of us, devour upon joys found in seeking and preserving validation.
– Shweta Kher