Strange World Poem by Mehak Chawla

the world is full of transience and fakeness and so the people are,
no matter what i think and just matter who they are..

they just know about their lives,
and not about me who cries..

they want love, care and attention,
in return of which they give me hate and tension..

sometimes, i want to leave completely,
but then i think, i cant behave so rudely..

i am always there to solve there problems,
but no one is there when i play tantrums..

and for this also i blame myself, may be i am having something wrong with them,
but actually the truth is that unlike others i am with them..