How difficult it is to put into rhyme,
The pain that wrecked your soul,
The pain they said that would,
But didn’t heal with time!
You try and try,
Try to rub it off your skin;
The more you try getting rid of it,
The more it grows within.
Now that you are settled with this,
You have its scent all over you;
This melancholia that you always hide,
Now your eyes speak of that too!
Maybe, just maybe,
You shouldn’t hold it too tight,
This melancholia that you keep so close;
It might fly away like everything that you once loved,
Well, who knows!
And hence I secretly adore it from a distance,
So it never really dies;
And we are happy like that,
With a face that smiles and a heart that cries!