Poetry Urdu

My eyes are low-memory devices,
but they still store the moments that hurt the most.

My heart is a slow processor,
taking time to load every feeling, every scar.

I don’t connect with people easily—
maybe my system auto-blocked trust long ago.

On the screen of my life, the wallpaper is a smile,
but deep in the backend…
there are errors I never show to anyone.

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