’ve always had a great need for greater solitude, like how the lungs needs air, that the heart beats and the poet needs love. It reminds me about myself, allowing myself to sit and feel my own emotions, to listen to my own thoughts, to see where regret and shame brews, take the corrective steps to correct, to see who I feel for, either as a lover or as a friend, allow myself to cry over people I knew that arent no-longer here and to appreciate those who make an effort to say hello to me. Most of it, the frustration with myself or with life, seems to be weakened after my isolating-solitude and something reminds me that it’s no so bad. We all have childlike nature inside, there is one thing stronger than tears that a child can’t hold back, it’s pure joy. At that very point, we cry at meeting our soulmate, it’s not because there’s an inherent sadness in either life. It’s because they’ve turned out far more superior than ourselves, producing beauty that any poet thought that only Angels could produce. And we’ve rendered by our soul to burst in tears, not at our painful past that it lead us to this point or that fact, anything we had worked for, had lost its value. It’s because we disregard our future and finally live in this present with the very person that the Heavens had personally created for us. And finally, to every love song, every poem, to those every smile, finally makes sense for the briefest of time. Than our attention, all of it, fully and stronger intentions than making it to Heaven, is passed onto our lover. The consummation of them, inside of us, won’t allow it. Until someone sees us, for who we really are, despite of own defects and faults, and our path to uplift and fulfill destiny is gained by their attention - is known. We are loved. Smile after crying, smile for me now, pictures of us immortalized in images.