NOT

I woke up to a heavy heart, and it didn’t take me a minute to know as to why.

I know how it may be easy for them to imagine things I’m missing out. It may be true and there can be too many.

But if only they'd try to dig deeper like that when you search buried seeds on the ground. They’d stop, listen, and discover that my heart beats, too:

every little piece of muscle strained before

every little piece of history I’ve gone through

every little piece of dream I’m rooting for

every little piece of me

Like theirs, my heart is but beats a different beat.