There once was a woman who had no vision. And yet she stayed positive, despite her painful incisions.
Her eyes had been lost to the cruelness of reality. Yet why can't I even get a grasp on said thing?
The man came up with theorems upon theorems and formulas upon formulas.
And he wanted to save this girl. A desire to protect, one that made him unfurl. The idea of regenerating eyes was byzantine even in modern times; it seemed impossible.
He had fallen for the woman, she had an exhilarating grace. And not to mention the kindness in her face.
But alas, here comes the peel;
The woman he fell for was not real.
And yet he still felt on; enjoying their time together; despite the fact that it was but a brainstormed plot, taking its' shot.
Oh, he would wish upon a star, "Where is my solace, it is near or is it far?"
But every single time he reached out his hand, a thing got cut.
But just like a starfish, he regenerated and went with a tut.
Only thing was, the very starfish eyes he had dreamt with a few, turned out just to be another fantasy within a hue.
And that this very attraction is just a stripe in the rainbow; and yet he feels it's the most vibrant; the paradigm of life always hit hard however.
Always left feeling romantically hopeless.
Such thoughts as so "I wish you were real" had no effect; but couldn't he ever just be correct?
So he sat in the snow until the fall buried him.
People found him, but he didn't feel different.
He was cold.
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Psychology Anthology:Optus Jargon
PoetryLife. Life is complex. Life hurts. Life loves. Sometimes you love life. Sometimes you hate it. Sometimes you just want to give it all up. Sometimes you just want to stay in a place, forever. Sometimes it's never. Sometimes it's always. Sometimes you...
