Being alone is a feeling worst than being hated,
Being alone is the worst kind of fear,
In a room filled with people a corner seems to be friend,
Wonder where im lying in this dark room
This heartache seems like crime scene
Neva will know who killed our love
Can you stop believing?
Can you stop this screaming?
Can you stop me from going?
Can you be reason to hold on?
Sometimes this life feels like a game….THE GAME
And you u neva know who calls the play
I’m down on my knees
Looking up to the sky
And wondering where did I go wrong
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Random Thoughts by Swarup Dasan )
(1 February 1878 - 3 May 1916)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(22 August 1893 - 7 June 1967)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
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