A rose won't rise after it was cut off
You can't undo the trauma bound to blemish for eternity
The least you can do is to not repeat the reasons
I am long since past my scar, yes
But it'll never mean it won't haunt to hurt me
The everlasting path seems excruciating
It is but a small world
YOU ARE READING
fit in fifteen
PoetryThe happiness we share is small But the memories will live in me for aeons We're just congenial and normal What could possibly go wrong?
