The sun smiles down at us,
It's the only one that does,
Everyone else is crying,
At what we've become,
We weren't always the villains,
Always did what was right,
But now we've realised, what's the point,
When, in the end, we'll all die,
We think that life's too short,
To always do what is good,
We wish we realised this long ago,
Back in our childhoods,
Society doesn't agree with us,
But we don't make a fuss,
We don't care that they're crying,
At what we've become.
YOU ARE READING
Poems and Random Descriptions
RandomRandom things that I like to write when I feel bursts of inspiration. Most of them will likely be poems.
