l.o.s.t

Just four letters, make me stop in my tracks. but it doesn’t matter neither does it point to any sense of urgency that I’ve stopped. For I know not where I am headed. I look left and right, up and down, all I see is emptiness. No one calls out to me neither do I feel my voice strong enough to call out any name.

I see people everywhere, doing something or the other, feeling some sense of purpose (or so I think). I look at my hands. They look young and healthy. The blood rushing through my veins. Full of life. But I don’t see any worn creases, neither do I see any bumps. No work seems to have come to life through these hands.

What have I done to make any difference in anyone’s life? Or my own for that matter. I keep reflecting. I am still lost.

Still. Lost. And screaming inside. Smiling outside.

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