Back Stage

My head is filled with words

Yet my tongue stuck in my throat

Feeling like a bird in a cage

Ready to flap with rage

A lot of things happening inside

Loud voices want to shout out

Screaming silently until out of breath

But no one can hear like I am underneath

Tears of pain starting to drop

Lethal smile to cover it up

How many times do I need to die

Before I can bury these lie

Mixed-Up

Sometimes I feel lucky because compared to the children in the street; I don't have to beg for money or food. Every time I see kids walking with their rag clothes I feel fortunate. It doubles the feeling when I pass by and see disabled people trying to make their life normal. I am normal and I don’t have to ask money or food from people. I should feel lucky but why I can’t even feel that?One day, I look myself in the mirror. I looked into my eyes, nose lips, face and body. I ask myself, is this me? Are you happy? Why are you not satisfied? What do you want? I close my eyes and everything in the past flashed back like it all happened yesterday. Mistakes mistakes mistakes..Why does everything seem to be complicated? Is it because of the lines on my palm? Does it because of my zodiac sign? My parents maybe? Friends? Or maybe it’s just me? Do I need to blame anyone or everything is planned?Things like this make me ask more. But maybe I should stop asking and start to find the answers, answers that make it all clear. Why do I exist in this world and what is my purpose.I used to compare myself to street children, but now I feel more unfortunate than them. Why? Maybe because with their situation they get to know who they really are and what are they capable of. They know already their worst situation; all they need is a little chance to make their life comfortable. Do I still have the chance?