The metro whispers in muted grief,
words hung heavy, unspoken, unseen.
Faces blur, blundered by silent wars.
Chasing lives, they will never truly live.
Discipline drags where hope has died,
and every sunrise feeds like a surrender.

I came up with this poem or a quote from a quiet moment during my daily metro commute. One day, I took out my earphones and observed the people around me. I noticed their pale faces, the absence of emotion, the silent death in the air of the metro, and how their eyes seemed to have lost their spark.

It was as if they were weighed down by the burdens of life, their thoughts consumed by daily worries, work pressures, and the monotony of routine. This observation of silent despair and the disconnect among people sparked the idea for the poem.

It reflects how, over time, the simple joys and emotions we once had as children can fade, replaced by the relentless demands of adult life.

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