Standing here as thoughts fill the air,
These thoughts so random
These thoughts so rare.
Questions so silly,
They make me wonder
What would it be like to touch a thunder?
Or maybe if rain could turn to snow?
I think these questions are random no more...

That's the thing about having a broken heart.
When the love you felt was true and pure,
it still hurts overtime.
No matter how long time has passed,
the scar is as painful as the wound.
It's a ticking time bomb.
When triggered, you burst to tears.
Crying all the questions and regrets you have over the years.
And sometimes all you can do is breathe in deep
as there are certain pain and tears you try so hard to keep.

As the worlds gets smaller these days,
The distance grows.

As life is being made easier,
Why do the feelings get harder?

Why is it that when we look at each other,
That the the eyes are not the thing we look at?

What is progression if regression is it's consequence?