And so I rest Within the miniature, confined coup Of nothing more than What is considered a young, Vulnerable girls’ room.
I welcome the waves of solitude Ever acknowledged by the purest gratitude I could have spared myself with In the fullest life I never lived…
For many are often dragged Into the endless streams of treacherous, traitorous Worlds of indecisively-protruding opportunities, Offering all of which cannot, And will never be encompassed within the arms of achievement.
And so I have given up On the sheer light of innocence of various individuals. Many are often masks Of vibrant, varied visuals, To colour my shaded vision which forever remains last.
Many individuals often turn to exaggerative modes of writing to express themselves.