Suspicious to the sweetness….
How can I not be?
Habituated to the bitterness….
How can I not assume the sweetness to be fatal?
Been walking on the bed of thorns….
How can I not flinch while stepping on flowers?
Accustomed to being the last resort….
How can I not stumble on being the first?
Familiar with the darkness….
How can I not wince at the light?
Attuned to the grief….
How can I not mask from the joy?
Friends with the loneliness….
How can I not reject the fame?
Afterall, I’m a person of pattern….
The sweetness is suspicious to me!!