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Room

I sit alone,

In a room full of people.
People, who look similar,
But donot feel so, somehow.
I sit in this room full of humans,
But never so alone have I ever felt.
I am missing someone,
Someone has a part of me.
A significant part of me is missing,
That is the part I need.
I need it, to feel again,
Be it pleasure or pain.
Do I miss my child?
Or my the love of my life?
Is it because I am sad
That I cry?
Or am I happen?
It is very hard to differentiate,
Very hard to understand.
Losing my son was hard,
But did I not get over it
already?
I heard gunshots,
Children crying for their mothers.
I saw guts gushing out
And those were my lover’s.
my son was shot thrice over,
Along with my lover.
Did the bullet hit me too?
Sorry, I am not sure.
I am missing something,
As I sit alone
In this room full of humans,
Along with my son and my lover.
In this lonely morgue.
Am I alive? Or am I dead?
Sorry, I am not sure.

Poems

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