Why do we let people affect us so
So much of our happiness dependant on
The whims of another
Shocking, how little control
We really have
How we actually have little hand in
Our own happiest moments
Why are words
Sometimes more than words
And actions quickened heartbeats
And how the grapevine
Can be a vein
Of hope or desolation
How little are we really
As people
Without each other?