Some evenings I just sit under the shed and let my mind wander the broken alleys of my heart, which I, myself, have found to my unknown desire of attracting troubled souls
Where there are words;
there is comfort.
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It's exhausting,
The dreams I have;
Trying to make what's fantasy,
Include no hardship.
Into false of hopes of reality.
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☆In this universe, there are only few things that could last. One of mine is poetry.