Right and left I turn and turn, all around I see hands push away. I've changed again and again, just to live life having no friends. But in return changing to adapt, I've become empty and cold. I slowly cry and die more and more each day, Hollow and unloved I can only run away. Aware of life being unfair I survive with a cold dead heart and a life of melancholy. I was raised to care, and learned to share but beat down to be cold and alone nothing seems to work out in the end. When will anything make sense...?
Its the small joys that the world lets slip through that we can use to hold & keep the warmth in our hearts.
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