oh that's the irony
because they judge full of inferiority
they say things aren't meant to be
they say nothing in life is free
because we know.
we know the sorrow,
but not what life will bring tomorrow
but not what will take us low.
we are young and bold
our hearts we paint with gold
into keen minds we mold
others' words with our own
we grow with nightmares in our wake
into cold-blooded monsters we are to make
all of us in hopes that are fake
we do it all just for our sake
but we do try
we attempt not to end this and die
we try to cover it all and not lie
but sometimes we fail and end up with a sigh
but here we are again
doing things as if we aren't made of pain
as if we're always meant to gain
as if we are warriors that will never be slain
YOU ARE READING
loquacious
Poetrylo·qua·cious /lōˈkwāSHəs/ adjective tending to talk a great deal; talkative. "never loquacious, Sarah was now totally lost for words" (photos in the book aren't mine. credits to the rightful owners.) 5 •7 - 10 • 29
