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If it wasn't for you
I wouldn't be writing poems
trying to put into words
how I feel

For I can express everything
except
*my love for you
For what is life if you're living it
depending your love
on other people's opinion?
How do  you learn to love yourself?

What is life if you're living it
beating yourself up
for not being able to do what other people do
even though you've never been able to do so
How do you learn to live with yourself?

What is life if you're living it
constantly comparing yourself to other people
deciding that you're the bottom of the pyramid
without realising that your life is okay
How do you learn to appreciate what you've got?

For what is life..
If you're haunted by the past
haunted by the ghosts of your own soul
unable to break free
because you never ask for help?

You think it's weak to ask for help
But I'll tell you one thing:
you're the weak one
-
Life isn't easy if you
won't let yourself
be happy
For you, mom.
I was a writer before parted
and now I'm left with no words
;you were the empty book I filled
with hundreds of letters and words
Words carefully chosen
turn into words unspoken*

How come
that every letter I write
is a letter I'm unable to send?
If only dreams were more than
my subconsciousness

If only you weren't a product of it..
"One day you'll look at the sky
and instead of wishing upon a shooting star
praying for everything to be okay
you'll realize that everything finally*  is  *okay"
Love is a fragile thing
when you've felt it fade away
leaving only traces of pain behind

The pain takes root in the soul
and turns into lilies
soon turning into a meadow of pain
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