Oh, who am I kidding?

I already have enough to be happy.

To be alive.

But yet, I feel like something always missing.

I feel the urge to seek something.

To fill my soul.

But, I don’t know what I need to seek.

I keep searching and searching.

But, do I really need to?

Well, I think I analyze a lot…

Just when we are fortunate, we forgot when we were misfortunate.

However, not many people are lucky.

My friend still gets her coronavirus after effect. For months.

People need to work hard to make their ends meet.

Misfortune comes even to innocent people.

Then, who am I to say, that I’m not satisfied?

I am so ungrateful. I feel bad about myself.

I tried to meditate. To contemplate. To write.

But yet this feeling of unsatisfaction comes again and again.

Is this a curse? Or, is it a normal thing of becoming human?

How one can become a better human?


This is my first… Poem? Thank you to all the people who post their poem here 🙂 wish a great blessing for you.