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Born to say ‘This poem defines me,’ forced to say ‘But I am not the verse, only the echo of its truth’
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“to live is the rarest thing in the world. most people exist, that is all,”
Sometimes I feel alive and free,
Yet some days pass so bland for me.
The night feels dull, the sun too bright,
A creeping weight in morning light.
But when I close my eyes and breathe,
And feel the cool breeze brush the trees,
I’m reminded life can still be kind,
Even without joy all the time.
- gemiiniish
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