It's hard to release
what you'd once ceased
to feel.
Is that what being cynical is?
because it's this
that kept friendships unresolved.
The pain that one feels should pass,
as a human heart is as fragile as glass.
The mind is but a dainty gear,
instilling a sense of fear,
one, that keeps us alive,
or if one can thrive
on danger,
like an encounter with a stranger.
the stranger could be anyone,
you never know what he's done.
I'd like to think cynics are a phase
but can we actually erase
the hell we'd been through
mabye, many but afew
may not,
give it a thought.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A part of me is a cynic. But I really like the message here. Thanks, Agastya