The painful thing called life.

Life is pain
Pain flows through pen
And becomes poetry
Is there no difference between blood & ink?
No, as there is no difference between skin & paper
Both are cheap
Blood on screen is entertaining
Somebody else’s pain on paper is entertaining
It only hurts when your skin becomes paper
And somebody else is reciting your pain
That’s the rule of the game
That’s how the pain industry works
Aren’t there beautiful words in any poetry?
Yes, they are. So What?
Have you ever seen that kind of beauty in life?
As found in so called beautiful poems
Beauty is distraction
A short high and a long hangover
So my dear friend
Whoever witnesses beauty in life
Has to find himself punished by an ugly hangover for the entire life.
Then he becomes a serial poet &
Remembers beauty (so called optimistic poems)
And confirms pain (what exists, so called pessimism)
The choice is yours
The words are yours
But the truth is very much same
Beauty is remembered & pain is confirmed.
Life is beautiful. Really?
Go find yourself a life first.
Go find yourself a life first.
Till that time
Life was beautiful.
Now it sucks. Period.