Unmoved Broods

So what if the world does not understand my intentions, My motives or my desperate grasp on my own dreams? So what if the world laughs at me, Taking the choices that I have made to be ridiculous, As, they can not relate to what I feel, to what I believe And to why I do tread on my own path, While keeping silent and while adorning my face, With a smile, bright and shiny, As to fool everyone into thinking, That I am not breaking up inside, that I am hurting not, That I am not really the glossy doll that I pretend to be? Why, when the world itself revolves on pretence, Why should I feel guilty as I follow, in her dances, Her own steps? When the world can change her temper and her dress, In one snap of its own fingers, making of me, in this process, Either a queen or a victim, Why is it that I should feel bothered by anything? Maybe, if the world could open its mouth and spill out its guts, Maybe then, I would have accepted to be another of its robots! Written on 11th FEb 2019