Homecoming

There was a time when I was afraid to walk alone

I was afraid of the dark even in my home

Little did I know that the depths of hearts are far darker

That there will be a time when I say

I don't feel at home where I was born

I guess it's the price you pay

For trying to live on your own every single day.

Being independent comes at a cost

For which I have paid dearly and lost

So many of my messages left on read

No one to call when hanging by a thread

No one around to encourage me

And why would they?

When I was the one to go far away

I know I have to do it without you'll

So everywhere I go I look for inspiration

To keep rising between every fall

Like that spider on the wall.

In this darkness I search for light

To see my family as friends not picking fights

To seek out friends who are family without a doubt

A home from where I don't need to walk out.

A man of few words.

I choose to be quiet,
Though I have so much to say,
I fear no one wants to hear it anyway.
I have ideas to share,
Fear they are too stupid for you to care.
Fear what others see as a piece of cake,
Is a problem for me that keeps me awake.

Always overthinking, forever in panic,
By the time I decide what to say,
You already move on to the next topic.
Should come as no surprise to y'all,
I prefer messages over calls.
Calls are sudden,
Your words are like bullets from a gun,
There's nowhere to hide,
While my thoughts choke me up,
Like drowning in a turbulent tide.

Socializing was tough enough,
And then came social media,
Keyboard warriors typing away,
Peeps putting pics everyday,
Of toned legs and muscles flexed,
While I sit there in awe, perplexed.
Even a Like button has different options,
Which one to choose is a big mystery,
Writing a comment equals a battle in history,
Every word typed is a small victory.

Though I speak less,
I can see your mess.
I feel your pain when you are hurt,
Wish to give a hug but often end up being curt,
I stay aloof rather than be called a pervert,
Guess I have trust issues,
But what can I do,
I'm just an introvert.

The Wrong Piece Of The Puzzle.

The world around me feels so vain and materialistic all the time,
You remind me of people with heart and feelings similar to mine.
I saw in your eyes the same fears,
When I saw you shed those tears.
So it's ironic how we are completely detached,
So what if our race, culture, wealth do not match.

But I am not complaining,
I have stopped daydreaming.
Fooling myself will only make me a fraud,
I've learnt to be content and be grateful to God.

I've seen you suffering behind those bright, brittle, glazed closed doors,
And not able to help you is my only remorse.
Can't even imagine your situation,
Would come and take you away,
If running away was a solution.
But I'm no Prince Charming,
This isn't a fairytale.
Mixing of cultures can be an unhealthy cocktail,
A concoction of disappointment and struggle.
This world has a long way to go,
Before I fit in the puzzle.