The Cry of an Unformed Mind

In an age of commotion and seclusion,
Minds devolve into the dark.
Immature minds and their whims,
Extinguish what could have been a spark.

The cacophony of restless voices,
Speak to a mind not formed.
Amidst all hopes and betrayal,
Is a silent pain that comes uninformed.

It’s not a curse,
But a phrase you’d pass.
Things would eventually make more sense,
Even if you don’t sit in a class.

It is the patience you hold,
That would reward you.
Save you from regrets,
It would release you.

The cry of an unformed mind,
Is transient.
Seek answers and you shall find.

By ishansavio

Analytics Consultant, Musician, Photographer, Personal Blogger

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