Sometimes,
they care,
sometimes,
they act,
like they actually care.
But how can I hate them?
Because,
without them,
I can't actually lived.
I wish I can do everything,
perfectly,
without a single mistake,
that's the only way,
they'll compliment me,
Everyone have feelings,
For certain situation,
but,
I'm different,
if I'm happy,
there's always a worry,
if I'm angry,
there's always a sadness.
" Don't happy too much,
Don't sad too much,
Don't angry too much,
Don't sick too much".
Like there's actually have feeling percentage.
Until,
I finally find,
the correct way,
unfortunately,
there's no one,
believe or agree.
YOU ARE READING
Color Of Life (A Collection)
PoetryMy mind keep thinking, thinking until I can't feel again. This will be never-ending, but who knows if one day I'll give up, it's the day I can feel right again, it's the day I feel like my story is enough. . . . "What if someone's heart want to live...
