her soul wandering,
Amidst the crowd
In a city of lights,
Bright while outshining the stars.
A whiff,a silence... Stood apart-
while, mind begged to stay still.
crowd felt familiar
Yet, her soul drowns in loneliness.
Her soul echoes with memories.
Living with the nostalgia-
who am I without it?
She needles herself, with joy in disguise.
She craves to feel it again.
She gave herself, but what's the use?
She lost.
The lingering anger within her endure,
was it all meant nothing?
Yet, she's contended with purpose of visit,
Is she meant to stay or destined to leave?
She still wanders,
In search of an answer.
-akshitha.

oh, the strong urge to be young again—
pinches my heart so deep within.
isn't it great being young?

oh, i still remember,
the knee bruises while playing,
such chaos has never appeared again—
isn't it great being young?

a child wouldn't mourn
for love, care.
world loves them.
everything appears fine until
they grow up.
isn't it great being young?

the child knows nothing,
neither the world nor the cost of living.
but, the joy in being;
happiness to them is inevitable.
isn't it great being young?

younger ones often get uplifted—
might own many hobbies,
perceived as an "over-achiever."
isn't it great being young?

the same child grows up, realizes
suffering is inevitable.
they deal with unfeasible expectations
for the world,
once an over-achiever, always an over-achiever.
younger ones never had it easy
isn't it great being young?

now, the suffering feels permanent,
while joy is temporary.
growing up, they realize—
didn't everything change?
so, is it great being young?

a younger child—akshitha.