I’m not sure if this is poetry.
Its something I need to say.
Something I need to get out of my mind.
It’s a tad bit of grey.

There are days when I pray.

I don’t pray ’cause I’m religious;
Nor ’cause I believe in god.
I don’t pray ’cause I want salvation,
and not ’cause I’m just that bored.

I don’t pray for cause.
I don’t pray for consequence.
I don’t pray for love.
I don’t pray ’cause of resilience.

I don’t pray ’cause of anger.
I don’t pray ’cause of pain.
I don’t pray to god;
I never ask her to make it rain.

I don’t pray for love.
I don’t pray in silence.
I don’t pray to win the war;
I don’t pray against violence.

I don’t pray for peace.
I don’t care for hell.
Fuck! your sacred heaven.
Let toll the bell.

I don’t care for you;
And not really for me.
I don’t care for captivity,
not much about being free.

I pray ’cause, when I do…
The words that pass through my mind,

keep me occupied,
keep me from thinking of shit!,
keep me satisfied,
keep me sane
keep me true.

They keep me happy,
they keep me warm.
They keep me sane,
and make me strong.

It’s just chatter,
to keep me from over thinking,
what I think,
should be thought of,
when I’m not supposed to think
of what I’m thinking about.

By: Viraj Belgaonkar

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

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