be a poet.

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And if I died, and if I am to choose what life to live next,
I’d still choose to be a poet.
I’d still choose to write things to comfort people.
I’d still choose to be broken but is able to fix others through words.
It’s because there’s something in writing
that fascinates me.
I do believe that words can get through things, no matter how hard it is.
Kind words can melt someone’s frozen heart.
Compliments can soften a hardened soul.
Words of reassurance can put a troubled mind to sleep.
And that’s what I want to do: to remind people that everything
will soon be fine, because they often forget it.
I do forget it sometimes.

I would still choose to be a poet,
because words are too powerful.
Sometimes, people use it in a wrong way.
And I want to turn words from a deadly weapon,
to something that will heal a thousand scars.

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