I've found like most things I've
come to know, I'm just
A shadow of my
former
self.

Sometimes, I feel so little.
I wonder, am I human?
Or just a machine?

Has anyone else been fighting a war they keep losing?
Fighting and fighting, with little difference?
Change of tactics, change of mind, change of though.  
That changes the mind to a unknown prison you can't escape?
That in the end, causes a change of person that you don't recognise when you look on the mirror and repeatedly asked; "What am I?" to no avale?
Or am I just a forgotten soldier, sent to die, in this war?

Like problems, When hammering nails,
You either hit the nail on the head,
Or your thumb.

And there I felt a sense of elation.
Seeing it for the first time.
A sense of interest.
Soft spoken, somewhat political.
Funded by interest.
The likes and dislikes of what lures the climate of smile.
It felt surreal.

A breath of fresh air.
A simple reminder of the smallest thing.
Not once did it feel that it was too much.
Not once did it feel that it was vain.
Off beat.

Watching episode after episode,
Subtle unsubtle laughs.

The gist of different references.
Spontaneous in the avenue of conversation.
I drove to get a second look. Then once more around.
The freedom of advertisement.
Officially elected in detailed statement.
A festival of sorts.
I would turn the corner and see all of my favorite characters 
represented by my most favorite character.

To compliment surprise her cheeks rose like a billboard. 
If marketing research counts, I was instantly sold.
Finding she was a avid merchant.
Her infinite knowledge for detail.
The gap bridged between listening and speaking.
A new experience to a different sector of my brain.
The rescue of a struggling smile.
A festival of bright smiles and laughs.
Corners of strong jawline and spontaneous conversation.
It was incredible.

Catching the most important reference,
My favorite character in life.
Wearing a Bob's Burger t-shirt
Granting smile in a instant

Lover, it’s tiring in the endangerment of dreams, like the
silhouette, flashing alluring across. Experience in love,
is a life worth sacrificing for. And you’re too late, you’re
burnt in my memory, I shall front what binds us, bless it
in poetry and shall rampage over what separates us.
As if both acts is holiness itself and nothing else exists.