Why don’t I cry nowadays?
Is it that the world’s gotten naive,
Or weak or pale?
Or is it my eyes that have dried away.
My heart’s gotten stoned,
Myself gotten bored
Of wetting my cheeks.

Why don’t I cry nowadays,
On the things that used to kill me.
Words don’t stab me easily nowadays.
Emotions don’t flow through me nowadays.
Am I becoming strong?
Stronger everyday?
Like a hard cover shell
In myself deep, the sorrow dwells.

These “nowadays” have evolved
From those “pathetic days” when I used to cry.
Is it good not to cry nowadays?
Is it good to stand here now,
And ask ourselves ‘‘what’s there to cry’’?
And then again stands a question-
Why don’t I cry?