Misery Poem by anurag chaudhary

Trapped in its mud pot
Alone in the crowded lot
The essence screams, bawls
To an unknown messiah, it calls

It’s caught in its own misery
The outsiders are not worth an advisory
They can’t see what it suffers from
For it is undefined, unheard, unknown

A few forced answers
Some personal disasters
Playing peek-a-boo with word life
It’s been long fighting its own strife

A few silences prevailing over screams
A bag full of futile dreams
The knowledge of nothing
Ignorance of the worldly things

Its troubled, its disturbed
Amid all the joys it remains perturbed
In the outer world, we see a plate full of treachery
Inside there is nothing, nothing but misery