Or to be loved That’s the question.
Not that it was always like this before.
It used to be much easier To love and to be loved with the beat When we used to believe in us.
Yet time made us hard as nails
And we became so cynical on emotions That now a days We barely understand one other.
We simply don’t know anymore
What makes us content. We don’t know What makes us so insecure. Is it arrogance? Or absence of expressions? Or is it lack of devotions?
Either way out
It’s us walking on the edge And it’s our bond that’s always at stake. Poems on Fate Great poems on Love Charming poems about Time
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