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Be-longing

Seldom can I be found, whither the herd does flock

The trail I pursue is my own, one that few others may choose to walk


To the tunes the world gently hums, I know not how to sway

I am blind to the sights the crowd sees, and deaf to the notes they play.


My choices are unlike most others', our priorities don't quite align

Where the world finds its pleasure and its pain, contrasts with whither I derive mine.


Some call me a loner, some say I'm brimming with conceit

"You've built yourself a shell", yet others remark, "into which, you love to retreat"


I would never do such claims the injustice of calling them untrue or wrong

But oftentimes, I quietly contemplate - where I'm alone is where I belong.


Sometimes I wish, the girl in the mirror hadn't been such an alien among the crowd

Sometimes I embrace her uniqueness. She's eccentric, but real. And that's reason to be proud.


I would be deceiving myself if I claimed I don't yearn to fit in with the lot

Being myself perhaps is easy, but being by myself certainly is not.


The brick walls I build around myself sometimes leave me gasping for air

Shutting my doors to all the noise, I've lost the few voices that ring of genuine care.


At times, silence is soothing; at times it shatters my heart

There are moments when I feel I'm enough, and moments when the void rips me apart.


Yet, I practise the art of savouring silences amidst the sound

For in company I may derive comfort, but solitude is where peace does abound.

Solitude is where, my peace does abound...


The Tranquill Poet 🤍

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