By Saud Ahmed
Every time I pluck a rose
And thorns don't hurt me
Every time I jump over the fire
And the ends of my cloth
Don't catch the embers
Every time I hurt you
And I get away with it
I see a part of myself
Running away from me
A part that forbids me
To violate, but I do
And what is left is pretentious
What is left is not me
It's a part that my real self
Left behind.