The question always arises
that why can I not write
happy things?
What happened so bad to me
that pain became my biggest pal
and I write it down,
every time I write something down.
No question asked about my happiness
though,
no one wants to know that
why am I happy
but about pain,
everyone is curious.
And now my pain is curious
to know,
what if it doesn't bleed in the form
of blood this time
but in words?
Will it still be the pain
or can become
beautiful
Yet
Painful.
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