𝑆𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒, 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠
𝑆ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑠𝑖𝑛, 𝑑𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑣𝑎𝑠𝑒
𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒, 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠
𝐷𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑎 𝑠𝑎𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑑𝑒𝑒𝑑,
𝐴𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑐𝑟𝑜𝑤𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑,
𝑆𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠
𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑝𝑢𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑠,
𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑎 ℎ𝑎𝑏𝑖𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑡𝑢𝑔𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑟
𝑆𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠
𝐴𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑠𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑧𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑤𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑎 𝑟𝑜𝑤,
𝐻𝑒𝑟 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑛𝑒 ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑎 𝑐𝑢𝑡𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑙𝑒
𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑒𝑟
𝐺𝑎𝑧𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑠, 𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑎 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑒𝑟
𝑆𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠
𝐻𝑒𝑟 𝑑𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑠, ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑒
𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠,
𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑠ℎ 𝑡𝑜 𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑠𝑒 𝑖𝑡 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛,𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑠ℎ 𝑠ℎ𝑒
𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒
𝐻𝑒𝑟 𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑒𝑟
𝑆𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑤 - 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑒
𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑟
𝑆𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠
YOU ARE READING
Life is lonely lethal love
Poetry𝗔 𝗽𝗼𝗲𝘁𝗿𝘆 𝗰𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 Have you ever wondered to yourself that what is life? What is purpose of life? 𝘞𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 - 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘵. 𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦...
