Hey, my friend, I have a story to tell,
Don’t tell anybody, it’s my secret.
Yes, friend. Say what you feel.
I won’t tell anybody. Your secret is safe.
And lot of friends, started pouring their secrets,
Confiding in me, trusting me with their true self.
I’m a quiet guy, a good listener.
I know inside stories; it makes me special.
So, I encouraged everyone, to speak their heart out,
To tell what others shouldn’t know, I gave them an ear.
That’s what a friend should do, I was happy to be a good friend,
Secretly happy to know secrets, and then it started.
And my inherent nature of overthinking added more fire to it,
I was getting anxious over what they all were going through.
I was at peace when I looked and reflected upon my life,
But I couldn’t find peace when I pondered on those miserable stories.
They were only craving for understanding and no judgment,
that’s why they chose me to hold those deepest secrets.
But what about me? Have they ever thought how difficult it is?
To bear those honest and unfiltered stories and feelings.
When the whole world has different perspective about them,
And I have to hide the truth that may change the world’s perspective.
It became difficult & agonizing, to bear so many stories inside,
My mind may burst one day with overload of stories.
Yes, those stories were touching, some unreasonable, and irrational.
And it was painful for me to realize that I can do nothing, but listen.
The crazy fact, the heart that hold a lot of secrets, is full.
But still it’s empty, because it’s also helpless.
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