It doesn’t matter whether people look into my eyes and realize,

There’s a profound sadness.

A grief so deep, so dark—that none can decipher.

It doesn’t matter at all.

Because, no matter how much they understand me,

My reasons: Nobody is going to love me for my sufferings. 

It’s always me before all of them.

And people tend to take advantage of it. 

A wounded bird with broken wings is bleeding.

Yet, there will be some people who will play with her feathers.

So, it doesn’t matter whether they can see the sadness in my eyes.

People won’t love me for who I am; instead, they will look at what I have and what I can offer. 

 ©® Farheen Akter Bhuian Nancy 

Timeframe: 12.41 pm, Sc & Hum