Pain et al

Is it always true that I’m at fault,
Why is it that I’m always wrong,
What should one do when there’s no other way,
Should I give up or persist ahead,

When the world seems low,
When the pain begins to blow,
There’s nothing else to do but to think,
To write and express my not so pink and blue thoughts,

I feel like crying, shouting and tearing my head apart,
I wonder why I can’t bring myself to do just that,
I guess it’s just not what I’m supposed to be doing,
Instead this is something that I could be doing,

It’s true that penning my thoughts helps me calm down,
But what about the mind that’s still racing and the heart that’s still beating,
At a rate that’s faster than it should be,
It makes me hyper, and tense,
So much so that nothing seems to make any sense…

At the end of the day, these are nothing but moments,
Moments of grief, pain and hurt,
Though when we think of the big picture they get mollified against the other moments,
When you view them in isolation,
There’s a feeling that lingers,
A feeling that says, sometime or the other you’ll have to pay….