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A Shelter for my Homeless Happiness…

Handful of days have passed,

I feel like a wilted flower in a storm,

I don’t feel like I can’t take one moment more,

I can’t seem to pass the hurdle.

I wait on the edge of tears,

But end up holding back again,

These thoughts of mine create a melancholic hurricane,

In midst of which I struggle to stay sane.

I loathe this anxiety that form the ropes of despondency that tie me,

I pity me, who knows she can’t take it anymore but goes about taming the fire,

The solitude in me increases and my happiness goes homeless,

This joy, then, takes shelter, that too, in the shadow of the agitation that disperses its neglecting mist that seems to eschew my position

14 марта 2024 г. 14:38 0 Отчет Добавить Подписаться
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