No beauty within.
Nothing less than a jealous vitality.
Wanting to be sufficient.
Soon to be omitted.
Inattentive remarks straining a clasp on my optimism.
I fought for this sanctity, yet all i recieve is insufficiency.
Why do i require to fulfill others perceptions, when i established my center point, my high.
Should it bring trouble to others?
Shall i yearn to keep them content?
Thier wondering eyes demand to be settled on themselves.
While i propose to live the way i desire not them.