Mistakes are our teacher.
But I am not too fond of it, and it makes me sick.
By just thinking, what truly it is.
It's part of growing up to commit mistakes. In that way, you can handle things precisely.
Things won't get even harder, and;
You'll be far into great misery.
I am a son, and you are a daughter.
We are obliged to do what they ask.
It needs patience and broad understanding.
To make everything possible,
In exchange, a sweet appreciation will be uttered.
Otherwise, a very long chastise is waiting.
We might be right-handed,
but they will drag you to the left.
Criticizing us to lose our grip.
AN😊😊
Hello buddies, this piece can be considered a short soliloquy. It is inspired by the time my parents scold me a while ago. They didn't give me the chance to explain my part. 😢😢
Looking forward to seeing your awesome comments, though, I haven't read anything (actually it's ok).
Love, Prince of Lies (finnocchio)
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Blood In Our Veins
PoetryA collection of unorganized thoughts that turns out to be an unorganized piece which I don't know what to call. Everything is simply based on how I feel and how I see things in a random circumstance. As you go along with the compilations of my so-ca...
