We talk about feeling blue, but the sky embraces it with pride
We talk about zits and dips, but the moon, with all its imperfections, has poems written on it
We talk about the veiny hands, but does the map complain of all the lines?
Life is but an amalgamation of ebbs and flows, then why whine?
The things that makes the chest flare up with pride are temporary, then why feel the high?
Rivers, mountains, trees, and valleys are the immovable allies we don’t know
Everything else is just a facade and a great show
Things that do not make sense at all
Trust the heart and stand tall
Life may seem frivolous sometimes
But we need not always make lemonade when hurled with limes
Smita in words 