Misunderstood

By Bhavya Mohta

Nobody comprehends,

Nobody extends their hands,

Each voice makes demands,

Yet nobody takes a stand.

Surrounded by suspicion,

In a sea of opposition,

But my love endures in my condition,

Even when they question my position.

They urge me not to weep,

Hiding tears within a silent keep,

Accusing me of secrets to keep,

Yet my inner strife is buried deep.

They call me easily swayed,

By others, they say I'm made,

Perhaps I'm simply misunderstood,

But my aspirations are inherently good.

Lastly, I must convey,

I persist, come what may,

Proving you wrong isn't my play,

I rise without putting you at bay.

By Bhavya Mohta