Behind the Closed Door…
Just few steps to my
room and I was ready to pour,
Falling drops when
touched my lips tasted bitter and sour,
I closed the door
softly, pretending; to not let them know,
Fear and anxiety pricked
me; as on the ground I laid low.
Though their shouts and
curses was low to my ears now,
I couldn't get rid of
dark voices that followed me somehow.
My hands wrapped my
knees and tears couldn't stop but roll,
Scared and tired, I
didn't know when I feel asleep on the floor.
My waking up was sudden
when mother called my name,
An hour had passed since
and situations weren't the same.
She put me food on the
table, not uttering a word,
Her silence might have
reasons; it hit me heavier than a sword.
Wanting to know but
couldn’t dare to ask her on the face,
With a heavy heart I
left, how much I wished to have solved the mess.
Shutting the door, I
plugged in some music and fall back to bed,
Let my mind wander
around the closed walls, so I could clear my head.
“You never know what someone is dealing with behind closed doors. You only know what you see or what you think you see.”
―
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