There is a certain line on our hand
That is an indicator of how long we live
I don’t know how far I have come
But of all I read, of all I saw
I have realized one thing
It’s not how much you live
But how you live the little you have with you
In my quest of living life the way it should be
I have ended up living for others… Alone
Living for myself is counted as selfish by many but few
But as they say, Life is like a book
And if you don’t explore, you only read a page
I have finished a page
And I like being there
Reading it again and again
With so much so far
I feel complete and empty at the same time
Full of emotions that have drained me out
Of love
Of grief
Of self belief
That now I don’t feel no pain
A part of me has left it all behind
A part of me left with it…
I am left in half
I need to collect myself
From places that touched me
From people who were a part
From the love I once felt
From the pain I still feel
To start afresh
On a new page
With a different colour this time
But again I ask myself
Am I running away… To be alone…?
Will I end up in the same way one more time?
I don’t know what the future holds for me
For all I know
It’s a new start… far far away
And this time
I will try not to look behind…
