Change…

By Srishti Satsangi

Change is what people ask,

Mystifying, it seems, with the same mask.

If you deny, it means there's a coward,

Underneath the mask and all the laughter.

Some don't go through the river,

Of fire, anger, rain and the shiver.

Beautiful life it seems filled with lovers,

And you find yourself living vicariously through others.

No, you won't try to be and try to change into them,

Holding back all of your vile urges and pray for them to disappear.

All along you know you weren't meant to be this plant,

It hurts but it’s safe to live in this prison on this land.

And how easy do they think to go into and come out of the cell,

And fall again and get out of the tormenting well?

Out of the palace prison,

there are consequences for a reason.

Once you learn, you don't go further,

Stop right there and look in the mirror.

What you've become crossing out that river.

Sometimes it's late, it's just your fate,

Die and come alive and prefer to be alone in this train.

They say “She doesn't have any friends.”,

But “she” is happy now she doesn't have to work for those cats.

Suppression is dangerous, now it's learned,

Every emotion outgrows in you until you vent it out to someone.

See you, keep on trying to turn up that song,

It's over, she swore to herself she won't ever do no wrong.

Just to get somebody,

Who doesn't even know where you come from?

The song will end in paradise,

Till you turn up the old song, she'll get ahead of the clouds and rise.

By Srishti Satsangi