Who was I?
That thing which you regret now,
That one thing for you which you’ve been dreaming for
But life took a turn
Everything thing inside me was burnt
If someone could write a story of my life
On a paper with pen
Even the pen would cry a river
If she could witness my pain.
That change is a mystery
I was left alone with some scars harming myself
What I’ve become?
Is nothing but just a punishment for myself.

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