emptiness.

I know not,
what this is within me.
This which rings,
it holds me down to keep,
wherever I am.
It doesn't let me stand,
but keep sitting.
My pace to hold myself,
is lost somewhere.
I know not, if I can be,
out of this pain,
wherein my heart subsides.
I have, like everyone,
tried to wait and pause,
I am patient, but being like this,
this way always,
how can I move forth in life,
they often ask me,
they question me,
my instincts, in and out.
They little know,
how I am hurt within,
when my art, my dream,
is going to be lost.
Something I held on,
making it my own.
Now, to leave it I feel,
I have to be bereft of my
identity. I may not be,
as intelligent,
and I know that,
so I don't ask for greatest things,
in my life. Because, what I have,
is enough for me,
to give me happiness.
I don't expect treasures,
I already have them.
Only if, I could make them
understand, what I am,
who I am like;
could peace prevail,
in our lives.