My dear,
someday everything we dream of will be ours.
Even if that someday will never come.
We get disappointed over and over, again but still we trust.
We get hurt so many times but still we believe things will change.
"Never ever again" we tell ourselves and then "this time will be different" and we start over again.
We can't help it, we go on for we are humans, corruptible souls. Mine is queen of those. For we leave for the feelings not the action itself, it's the thought that keeps us craving and the fall makes us realise how wrong our mind had done.
But we crave.
We Dream.
We fall.
We get hurt.
These keep us alive.
These feed our lungs.
These let our blood flow.
And as a human I fall again alone but safe.
Billionth time and it sure won't be the last one.
So wrong I thought "someday everything I want will be mine", so selfish and empty, such ephemeral thought, for I wanted it to be "ours" but "ours" will never be.
YOU ARE READING
Unsent.
Poetry"My Dear, It's a beautiful day outside, But I don't feel like enjoying it..." _________________________________________ A series of unsent letters. Some of them may contain inappropriate language or behaviours and some of them may be completely poin...
