An Idiot
I watch this world differently,
it doesn’t look cheerful,
as others behold.
Plagued with sorrows and gloom,
multiple stories,
remained untold.
Once in a while, I’m envious,
just a spectator,
a melancholy opinion,
unlike happy faces,
careless about the surroundings,
accept every gruesomeness.
My phrases are meaningless,
bunch of idiotic thoughts,
I guess.
Book of my thoughts,
left aside in a corner,
dusty handwritten pages,
unread by everyone.
Later, I smile as a monk,
all with content,
I read these depressed tales,
as I don’t accept this fate.
By: Khushi Joshi
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