one person out of a hundred will slowly understand that,
nothing is ever perfect, and if they seemed to be at the start,
it's just a fool's hope, the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.
The pot that can never be found.
Some people smile at the sight of the children frolicking around the puddles of water by the gutter,
Others laugh quietly at the sight of loved ones smiling at the children.
It's a bittersweet smile though, one that never lasts.
Once upon an age, it was an easy task to be sure of oneself.
just the mandatory tales of Blood and tears upon the falling burning hanging body.
Now it's hard. it's just so hard to do so.
People never had time for romantics & dreamers.
it's out of a logical need but we don't have the need to diss it too.
Superficial beauty takes away the breath of the public and the rest just weep.
weep, with the sorrow of knowing the lost.
it's an error to feel.
to feel too much and to understand it so.
To watch it burn in front of you but yet,
letting it burn away instead of keeping it to yourself is better for it.
so let it burn.
let everything burn.
let it all burn.
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