the world beats us,
steps on us,
shatters our faith,
our souls, and our hearts,
then expects us to stand
up and function like
we never suffered,
like there was no
damage inflicted.i don't
wanna keep
forcing myself
to live when our
tendency
is
to diewhether
we like it
or not,
that's just the
cycle of life.
YOU ARE READING
four seasons
Poetryfor you, the sun shines. the flowers grow. the night comes. everything just glows. all rights reserved 2020 ©artoxicated