There’s a pattern in our lives.
The moments where things are fine,
We forget to write and express our minds;
Until the sad days come around.
When these sad days come around,
We search for ways to free our souls
From any darkness or any hurt
That we have to feel once again.
Wishing these pattens of highs and lows
Wouldn’t come back again and again.
But what is a life, without hurt?
What is a life with pure joy?
Our happiness comes from sadness.
To feel happy, we must go through pain.
Believe it our not, it’s the steady game.
The game of life, the patterns
Of sadness and happiness always shifting.
n.n
Feb 9, 2019
Feb 9, 2019 at 1:33 AM UTC
There’s a pattern in our lives.
The moments where things are fine,
We forget to write and express our minds;
Until the sad days come around.
When these sad days come around,
We search for ways to free our souls
From any darkness or any hurt
That we have to feel once again.
Wishing these pattens of highs and lows
Wouldn’t come back again and again.
But what is a life, without hurt?
What is a life with pure joy?
Our happiness comes from sadness.
To feel happy, we must go through pain.
Believe it our not, it’s the steady game.
The game of life, the patterns
Of sadness and happiness always shifting.
n.n
There’s no middle ground.
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