Born in the dark of a womb

with a choice to walk in the light;

Lay buried six feet under

or fly as high as a kite.


Shy away from thunder

or build a shed for the storm;

A choice to sail the oceans

or hum your melancholic songs.


Sulk in gloomy despair

or walk and find your self;

Mourn the loss of a heart

or be the person you help.


Point a finger and blame,

your world for being unkind;

Close your eyes and dream

to see the world of the blind.



By: Viraj Belgaonkar

Pen it... or aaa type it. u know what i mean.

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