What an irony it is

That we tend to love and help others

But when it comes to ours

We leave them in a restless position

Engulfed in ego and in anger

The first priority comes to those who are made up of the same blood

But we are tied in jealousy, knowing the true identity, weaknesses and stupidity

Despite having a love inside

We can't show rather go against the natural tendency

So much of pain when it comes to the similar blood that runs into our veins coming from the same roots

Though we share same cultures and identities, despite growing, wandering, knowing and fighting under the same roofs

But when it comes to help, we are somewhat blinded to ours and open to others

And other sees us as humble, genuine and gentle

But in reality we are broken pieces of anger piercing the sharpness leaving the darkness to engulf the harsh words that were never thought but works unapologetically in rectangle

Oh we are so soft to the person we have never known in person

And sadistic to those whom we were to live with but having difficulty in acknowledging it

The reality is somewhat like seen while stirring the water

And the shallowness is something we enjoy ignoring the deep where the life needed the essentials to survive and thrive but it's messed altogether

By Moin Uddin

From: Nepal

Website: https://mynameismoin.blogspot.com/

Instagram: moin.writer

Twitter: rjmoin

Facebook URL: https://www.facebook.com/moin.uddin.98