Actually this piece would be ideal as a poem but it would be very stereotyped when expressed in the lang of poetry. Just trying to attempt in prose!
These thoughts are aimless for they find no admirer. Yet each time they grow filling in themselves the depth of hope. Perhaps they are worthless to the blind eye, only truth to one's own.
The akwardness sometimes sets in fear. Of a loss maybe irreplacable. And the happier things are just crucified in the soul of suspicion.
The question of integrity arises from such bravery. To be able to accept fate. Desperation is a mere act of weakness. For when you love you'd let go.
I pity silly accusations and revengeful longings. The wickedness of every human mind is evident at check point.
If you had trust, it wouldnt last. The very nature of the homo sapiens on this is earth is so. Each is selfish to his own desires, wants and loves.
Somehow i hope that is untrue. Just for this period of time. Give me this life to believe that my beliefs are found, my hopes are blessed.
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