"Not Just Words"

Someone once said,

"Your poems are too sad."

And I smiled quietly—

thinking, what would they know?

They see only the ink,

but not the weight behind it.

These aren't just words—

they’re fragments of a life lived,

echoes of moments long gone,

feelings that never found a voice

until they bled onto paper.

This isn't sorrow for the sake of art.

It's memory.

It's truth.

It’s the pain I carry,

the kind no one else can see—

no one but me,

and the God who listens in silence.

And now,

writing has become my shelter.

In these lines,

I find a kind of peace

the world could never offer.