That is Your Specialty

Things that could be expressed simply,

Were woven into an intricate web of words.

Took long for the meaning to surface,

The world had moved,

Was too late to reply.

That is your specialty, my dear friend.

You took all the bullets shot at you,

Silently, never uttering a single curse,

Without an option,

Had to do it for the one you loved.

That is your specialty, my dear friend.

The truth about myself,

Was so gently spilled into my ears,

My eyes open,

Now, I can see clearer.

Again, your specialty, my dear friend.

You embraced me,

When everyone had turned faces away,

That is your virtue, my dear friend.

Unaware

Climbing up the Rope of Life,
My grip grew stronger as I progressed.
All those memories behind,
Were left to crumble down,
Disappear.

Signs of you,
Were in my thoughts no more...
But, the feeling,
Still,
Survived.

"Now, I have a firm hold on it."
I said.
No more damage can be done,
You can shake me?
No, not anymore.

And just when I say this,
Why do I lose my grip, again?
Why can't the hollow you created be filled?
Why does it affect me still?


Why does the pain not go?
Yet, no one to answer my pleas,

And you lie somewhere,
Absolutely Unaware!