I loved sadness—
not by choice,
but by the way it stayed
when all else fled.
It didn’t need to be found;
it knew the way back
like an old friend
who never forgets.

Once you taste its silence,
feel its weight on your chest,
you realize—
it’s intoxicating.
Unlike joy, fleeting and false,
sadness is loyal.
It doesn’t promise
but it never lies.

I chased happiness,
naïve in my thirst.
It kissed me in sunlit days,
then vanished
like a traveler with no return.
But sadness—
it sat beside me in the dark,
wordless, yet full of meaning.

It broke me
only to make me see—
how fragile I was,
how proud.
It brought me to my knees,
not to weaken,
but to remind me
of where I came from - the dust.

It connects me to memories
that laughter forgets.
Even the joy I knew
leaves behind
a shadow,
and in that shadow—
I find my truest reflection.

Sadness, my quiet companion,
never asked to be loved—
but I love it still.
For it stays
when no one else does.
And in its silence,
I am never truly alone.