Sometimes
I don't know if am cynic, or a believer.
Sometimes I believe, believe that it happens for a reason. Sometimes I just don't believe in anything or anyone.
I don't know if am a lover or a hater.
Sometimes my heart feels so heavily for a stranger I find myself questioning my sanity. Other times I feel strongly against another I wonder if my humanity really exists.
I don't know if am a reader or a writer.
Sometimes I spend hours writing just to hate reading it. Sometimes i spend hours reading and I like it.
Sometimes I love the music I have in my phone, other times it drives me so crazy I just shut it off and listen to the silence.
Sometimes am happy, other times am sad. Sometimes am a lover, other times, just a hater. Sometimes I believe, other times I see that belief as torture. Sometimes I know myself, and other times I am a stranger even to myself
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Author:
Nah Hannah (
Offline) - Published: May 7th, 2024 06:47
- Comment from author about the poem: the poem is a reflection of how my days are. sometimes i just have it figured out, other days am just clueless
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 8
- User favorite of this poem: Qurrathul Ain.
Offline)
Comments1
All those times human.
100%.
comes with both the good and bad
We are a complex bunch.
It's difficult to know what's what.
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