what do you know
about the smile on my face?
what do you know about the things that I've faced?
what do you know about those haunting memories?
the ones that never leave and go and stay in mind like a carved melody?
what do you know about
the reasons I fake my joy?
what do you know about
the very silence of my voice?
what do you know about
the days on which I struggle?
When life beats me to my knees,
and yet I still try my hardest to fight away all of my troubles.
what do you know about
how much I have bled?
or how much I have cried?
what do you know about
those tears that have been shed after so many relentless nights?
You don't know. You don't know.
You sit there and judge what you see.
Life is a game to you but you don't know,
you've no idea of what life's thrown at me.
You can see a smile on my face so you think it's okay,
but truth is my smile is faker than your concern.
And you think it's okay to say the things that cause pain,
cause maybe you still haven't lived enough; you haven't learnt.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem