Pity are those who hold on to identity,
I choose multiplicity;
I am my parents' treasure;
a speck of dust to the world.
I am a wallflower,
basking in the ambiance
of a bustling crowd;
a warrior of words,
who forgets his bounds.
I am a lord over my experience;
a child to his desires.
I am a shy lover;
a valiant dreamer.
Pity are those who hold on to identity,
for there is beauty in multiplicity.
I thought of those warm memories,and wondered, did they ever know,
that they will be my only company?
I thought of those endless dreams,
and wondered, did I ever know,
that they all have an end?
I thought of those easy laughs,
and wondered, where did they all go?
I thought of those bygone sorrows,
and all I could do is think.
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