From Afar,
I observed,
through the mirror your beautiful,
porcelain skin had started to crack.

From Afar,
I worried,
you would have no reason,
after reason had turned her back.

From Afar,
I admired the way you poured gold,
in the places you lacked.

You're not easy to love, and I've known from the start,
You build up your walls, protecting your heart.
You hide behind layers of silence and pride,
A storm I keep chasing with nowhere to hide.

I reach out my hand, but you pull it away,
A dance in the shadows, we sway and we stray.
You’re tangled in memories, afraid to let go,
Yet there's warmth in your eyes when you let it show.

Every word is a battle, each smile a truce,
But the scars run so deep, and your words feel like noose.
I’ve tried to be patient, I've tried to be kind,
But loving you feels like I'm losing my mind.

There’s beauty in chaos, or so I believed,
In the mess that you are, in the pain I’ve received.
I wanted to save you, to make you feel whole,
But your broken pieces don't fit with my soul.

You're not easy to love, but still, here I stand,
Holding the fragments you place in my hand.
And maybe one day you'll see what I see,
That you're worth the struggle, at least to me.

In youth's tender grasp, we danced, carefree,
Unaware of the wounds, the silent plea.
Hearts wounded, yet hoping to be set free,
Bound by a love that was never meant to be.

Too blind, too obstinate, we held on tight,
One spoke in hurt, the other in spite.
A painful dance, through day and night,
Yet one chose to stay, despite the fight.

Now, in the autumn of days long gone,
The scars remain, a lingering dawn.
Time's cruel hand, it marches on,
Leaving a love once bright, now drawn.

To understand the wounds, it took too long,
A love so right, yet gone so wrong.
Echoes of pain, a siren's song,
In the symphony of a love that's gone.

A heart may ache, a soul may weep,
In sadness, truths are ours to keep.
For pain, though sharp, can teach us well,
While folly wraps us in a spell.

The fool may laugh, oblivious, free,
Blind to the cost of what might be.
They chase the fleeting, dance with lies,
While wisdom slips beneath their eyes.

In sadness, clarity makes its mark,
Like stars that shine when nights are dark.
We feel the weight, but in the end,
It shapes us like a trusted friend.

The fool avoids the lessons deep,
And trades his soul for shallow sleep.
He mocks the tears, dismisses care,
But finds no solace waiting there.

So let the sadness linger near,
For through it, truths become sincere.
A wiser heart, though burdened full,
Knows it’s better to be sad than a fool.