When in France...
Because life can be tiring at times. One wakes up every morning thinking that," Yes, today is my day. Everything will be A-OK." Well usually, it just takes an hour or two post waking up to know that nothing new is to happen. The same old monotonous routine.
A poem for all the things that are no more. All the people lost. All the dreams diffused.
I DEDICATE THIS POEM TO ANYONE WHO'S EVER BEEN LONELY. THIS IS FOR YOU.
Just about choices we all have to make. And how they are mostly mistakes. And they hurt. Yes. But you can't take them back or undo them. And the life kinda just goes on and because we are the one making those decisions, we can't blame others for the consequences. We're our own monsters.. Shubhda