Living: A poem by Princess Lubna

Precariously written in my blood ink
Studiously filling the pages all pink
Is the darned book of my life
Sliced systematically by a knife

Not many but some torn pages
Hidden scorns and rages
Secrets written in invisible ink
Tearing apart the bitter link

At times baring the soul on paper
Was of no use a realization later
Varied emotions one had to cater
People found beneath many layers

Writing to please one and all
Even when none takes your call
Truth these days nobody dares
Integrity or honesty one hardly cares

Life goes forward pretty fast
Pages turn at break neck speed
No lamenting, no looking back
Going on living till stacked in a pack