He knows he'll never have the best of both worlds
Or even the best of one of them
He knows nothing's perfect
And no, certainly not him!
Deep down he knows - he can see
To him this world's a circus
Where he's the juggler
He juggles with fire and water
He juggles between love and hate
He juggles with his world
He juggles his fate
The fire doesn't always pass through
And sometimes his fate slaps him in the face
The blisters often remind him of his failures
But he moves on in his own pace
He moves on without crutches
He doesn't always get help
But he surely knows how to heal himself
He finds solitude in the loneliest places
But finds strangers in familiar faces
Hey, he never said he's perfect
He's just a self-healing juggler
He has to juggle everything that's thrown his way
No matter how hard he tries
He can never throw his worries away
He juggles with love
He juggles with hate
He juggles with his messed up fate
He juggles between what's correct and what's vile
And in between he picks himself up
You see he's just a juggler, not a clown
He can't pull off a painted smile.
Tasmeena
Maryam