The Conflict With Out, The Conflict With In

By Vani Agarwal

Rolled up sleeves, tightened fists,
fearing eyes, unending lists,
whispers and rumors whirling around,
yelling at me, but never make a sound.
The wearied heart, the swollen soul,
the tears drowning me, one and whole.
The fear of being an outcast,
the worry of always being last.
but it is never enough, is it?
so beat yourself up.
knock yourself down.
crying and smiling, the haunted clown.
Breaking mirrors, shattering glass,
no other me should ever pass.
Uncomfortable and fidgety, afraid of out and own,
scared of the light, the one it had shown.
No way in and no way out,
broken and bent she shouts,
stop.
JUST STOP.
What is the point anyway?
The sun maybe out,
but never for you is it there day
awakened, enlightened, washing away the sin,
The conflict with out, the conflict with in.