What Goes Around.

Purple-pink skies turned into dull greys
Like delicate flowers that wilted away,
Leaving behind memories we couldn’t erase;
We wanted to, but we never did stay.
Like leaves in peak autumn,
We shrunk and fell to the ground–
You win some, you lose some,
And what goes around, comes back around.

Our stories write themselves
And all we ever do is forget to live;
All our lives spent looking for words,
Never comprehending the comfort they give.
What has gone will remain gone,
It’s time for better things to be found,
You win some, you lose some,
And what goes around, comes back around.

We fool ourselves with little lies,
Realistic masks plastered with fake smiles–
All the secrets we try so hard to hide,
The skeletons in our closet and behind loose tiles.
And when the Grim Reaper comes,
We hold our breaths, not making a sound;
You win some, you lose some,
And what goes around, comes back around.

All these answers we hope we’ll find
Someday, somewhere along the way,
Buried in the darkest depths of our minds,
Whether we’d make it is hard to say.
And all we want in the days to come
Is to hold on to the voices we’ve found–
You win some, you lose some,
And what goes around, comes back around.

The voices at the back of our heads
May whisper vile things and tear us apart;
Do we shut our ears? Do we fight?
Listen to the brain or listen to the heart?
Another trip around the sun,
Another fight on a fierce battleground,
You win some, you lose some,
And what goes around, comes back around.

~© Shubhangi Srinivasan.

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