The Crowd

by Noura M.MouSsa

Sitting in what should be a state of joy,
A celebration and everybody’s content,
But my heart is stuck in a funeral,
To be Pleased and happy I couldn’t pretend.

I’m not like anyone I don’t belong with any crowd,
My face speaks, my eyes screams,
But no one could hear me cause the music is very loud,
And being heard was one of my far-off dreams.

My absence resembles my presence,
And what I say speaks as much as my silence,
A book covered with dust,
Judged by its cover,
A child who lived through great maleficence.

Malefic heroes playing the main role,
Dancing with the groom and the bride,
But among all those same smiling faces
The malign grin is the easiest to hide.

Every inch has it’s saints and sinner, humans and demons,
Doesn’t matter how big or small is the crowd,
And in my lonely corner it’s still not quiet,
My inner saints and demons are addressing my mind very loud.

I have the largest crowd my head,
Of my own enemies I never could get rid,
They are the reasons I can never celebrate,
The reason at night I can’t close my eyelid.

2 Comments to “The Crowd”

  1. haunting and strenuous in the emotional boldness but that’s a great window into your soul.

  2. Thanks 🙂

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