Because I know you are listening to my whispers,
You are listening to the conversations I have with myself,
And no, I am not not mad, that you know very well.
But you choose not to respond- never to respond.
Who knows what mystery lies in your words, that they never happen to reach me.
I only hope you can hear me,
If not, then call me a lunatic,
I've spoken hours to frames and idols,
Knowing you are somewhere there,
Believing you will now appear!
Alas! Appeared you never.
I have lost it all now,
You've left me with nothing to gain,
Yet to you I've come, again, yes- again.
Not once have you given me love,
Not once a word of care,
You've solely staired, to what and where?
Not at me, I know that.
Or maybe you did!
Why still do I share with you my pain,
Speaking with you for so long, I'm insane!
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