Catharsis: 365 days of poetry

110: stoic faces looking for joy.

Tell me how,
how to cope.
Tell me now,
the problem to scope.

Love does not exist,
so hard not to mope.
It won't be missed
or mourned across the globe.

Being alone is overrated,
is how days go by lately.
It makes room for boys ever-so frustrated
who preach over to themselves: "I hate me."

How do you find it in your heart
to find the one?
How do you heal from your scars
and become better at once?