A daily reading from One Poem Only—a quiet space for a single poem, read aloud.

Still, something

Aditya Gupta

I stopped praying long ago.

The gods grew tired of my voice,

or maybe I just grew tired

of asking for things

that never came.

My wallet’s thin,

my dreams thinner

a handful of words

no one cared to read.

Even my parents’ eyes

look at me like unfinished work,

a draft they wish they could rewrite.

And love,

she always leaves

before the song begins.

I’ve learned the sound of silence

that follows a “maybe next time.”

But sometimes,

in the middle of all that noise,

a small thought hums

that maybe I’m still here

for a reason I don’t yet know.

Maybe the words I failed to write are still forming inside me.

Maybe faith

is not about believing in God,

but believing

that the broken can still be beautiful.

And maybe one day,

someone will see me

not as a failure,

but as a boy who kept trying

to love the world

even when it forgot his name.

More from Aditya Gupta ↓

1. @serenadeinsilhouettes on Instagram

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