I haven’t written a story, haven’t really rhymed.
All I have done is feel, sometimes be happy, and sometimes blind.
There’s a world that is an illusion of people being yours without really being so. There’s a world where you think you belong but you’ll never do so. Amidst happiness, friends and love, the ingredients to a wonderful life, I feel lost and scared like a little kid. I love my life who’s a friend only if you are one.
Compared to the shadowed yesterday, there’s a brighter tomorrow. Literally, as I see. I stand in between and look at the two and realize there’s something in you, and something out there, whatever happens needs to. Being God’s favorite child, no harm can ever befall you. It is a bliss to be wrapped in this illusion, especially knowing that it is one.
And the strangest discovery, in this whole farce that we live through, the most truest thing is the biggest illusion of all. Love. How it stays on, no matter whether you do or not. Yes, it is a wonderful, illusive life.