I have searched hard

who knows more than you that life is not a poem at all as you have been exposed to practically cross cultures or say civilizations of the world but still I am writing a poem for you may be that is my own way of remaining relevant as seriously telling you no one simply can  imagine the hell I have lived and probably you will come to change this hell to normal life at least.

broken pieces
I search every eve
how to get it
make a shape

some of your heart
some of mine one

I dont know
whom so ever
I happened to have
some moments
of daffodils

why
it were so ephemeral

I have search hard