I don't know what it is called..
It felt like I was out of all odds,
Childhood was different,
Situations made me introvert...
I never knew what sharing sorrows be like,
Though I shared others unlike.
My all colours including black and white stayed in my head,
Only one who knew about it was my bed.
But then I was used to fake a smile,
As if they cared if I show my real stone of mile.
Things were not wonderful ideally,
But they are, for me.
Then came uninvited guest,
Trust me he is still the best.
Atleast for me, never knew about the rest..,
I shared him chai biscuits and also all"my colours".
Time I spent with him was never like others..
I don't know what is this called,
I felt like I was out of all odds.
What I couldn't notice was, guest stay for too little,
Letting him go was no less than a battle.
Realized, being introvert was easier than this,
Chai biscuits were enough for a guest.
©nihalikach
N