About a friend who don’t realize.

Another poem.

I feel you so much.

Beautiful Lines 34.

To all of those who found someone that opened a new door and definition of love. To those who found true, true love. And those who found someone worth living for.

We realize.

Value, price, pay.

When you realize your own pride has cost you to hate.

The struggle to grow, to change, to make oneself better, to persist, to become. It easy to view those in this struggle as competitors, but that will serve only to deepen our sense of isolation. We are brethren.

Most of the time we regret the things we didn’t do more than the things we did. And when we do, we end up wanting to change a lot of things in the past only to realize, we cannot because it would be like suicide…