Slope

Childhood full of memories of knowing everything,
From how ceiling fan swings
where sounds are coming
Learning to know how to use hands
How to make faces on the sand
Learning to talk
and making noises of different kind
It’s an innocent face of us buried deep within
The first steps taken were
Like sounds of mandolin
Always courageous

How curious we were whence we were child
Where did we lost those good times
I wonder where we lost those faces
Laughing for no reason
As we grew older
sadder we became
I wonder what rational person would become sad as he grows
But we are all somehow unhappy
It may be because we linked all our emotions with different people and different things
May be we started depending too much on material things

We are buried under the debris of our own expectation
Those we hold so high
We are wanting to change the world
Except we ignore that we are part of it,
Our basic needs have changed
Now we need people to be like how we want them to be
And we are not able to stop this pretense

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