A scream out of the gut
rising loud and high
screaming and screaming
until the throat runs dry;
Buried deep down inside
a searing anguish
tearing out the grave
all set to vanquish;
The birth of pain
and its presence ominous
venting out strong
through the voice vociferous;
of which I often confront
with a cheerful glee
but today, I am different
I am not thee...

The hapless soul brimmed
with stricken grief
taxing out which otherwise
had its moments brief;
how unforgiving is
the entrenched sorrow
dousing the feeble hopes
of a beautiful tomorrow;
stand tall and fight at front
thats the very optimist me
for today, I am different
I am not thee...

The unyielding pangs of pain swelling
out through the blue veins
And tears pouring down
like the cold November rain;
A painful prospect
I strongly believed
to be a rosy retrospect;
Cauldron of memories rich and affluent
I reminisced wild and free
alas today, I am different
I am not thee...