You worry far too much.

Love lost in an enveloping Italian sonnet.

I hope to see you smile again.

Doubt can ruin your faith.

Not all the things we wanted in this life can be given, it’s a reality and we need to accept it.

I know you are with me.

A poem of not knowing what to do. The format is a triond.

Sights. Hereafter, I do not know where,

Perhaps fleeing, perhaps searching,

How should I know

Sights. Between your memory’s cracks,

Between the sea furious of your passions,

Between the veiled storm door of the uncertain future,

Some people lose themself and forget who they are and were.

Perhaps is a speculative word that rises up the standard of positive thinking.