I still cling to the small hope
that things will turn out better
than how I expect them to be.
But every single day, crumbs are being taken,
stolen from that small quantity of hope.
How I wish I won’t completely lose it.
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Hey You, Stranger!
PoesíaSometimes, when things seem to fall down, and when we can't seek help with picking the fallen pieces up, we tend to do it by ourselves in silence. I want for us to cease believing that we are just inconvenience for others. I wrote this book as raw a...
