I haven't seen you for days,
haven't talked to you for weeks, for months—
I don't know, maybe I should stop counting already.
But not a month ago,
a close friend told me she had seen you.
Few weeks ago,
another friend told me she saw you.
Just the other day,
another one told me that she saw you,
and right now—at this moment,
you're probably with some of our friends,
talking and laughing with them,
and I'm here, wondering when will I see you again.
"It's a small world", that's what people used to think,
I used to think that it was, too.
But, somehow, it's continuously expanding
when it comes to me and you.

people say the bed doesn't feel the same when a lover goes away.
it's been said that it feels that they took a part of you.

i believed these things for many years.
lovers have come and gone, and my existence dwindled away.

until one day when just a shadow remained,
i looked up and i looked around me.

i noticed trees, flowers, and animals.
storms have come and destroyed these things at some point in their existence.

but they came back. they grew stronger.

why can't i?
i can.
i will.

simple swing sunlight
glinting off tiny sparkling feet
the pure joy of wind and speed
rushed and slipping by through the hot summer
days. streams of shadows play and splash
around the busy feet, the small bodies
jump and swoop up and around the
flat cushion ground.

memories are made here, with mom
just an arm’s length away - and then -
woosh! soaring again, mouth with
six new teeth shouting in pure
moment and monuments of love and
fun cement themselves in this
flashbulb second:

imagine it with me, I’ve taken
you there: a girl in a pink
dress, the fluffs of her curls just
emerging from her soft head and wide
brown eyes, her smile suspended in
the air as she floats slowly forward

her mom, her source of love, arms
tan and strong that have held her and
kissed her tears away, outstreched
to meet the red plastic swing to push
again, to push again, and her daughter

enjoys this almost-flight. she never
wants it to end.

I'm covered in the stain of my own past regressions
I'm buried in the pain of old and new obsessions
I'm crying out in vain, can you hear my confessions
I'm smiling in the rain to hide these tears

Be grateful,
For as long you eat and have clothes on,count yourself opportuned.
No matter what you get in life,you'll never count it enough until you become grateful for the little things.
We envy money so much not realising it can't buy happiness nor a spot in eternal life,it can't buy love nor peace.
All that money can buy is vanity.