Do we carelessly toss what we have,
Then lament for what has been lost?
Only in turmoil is peace so dearly cherished,
And amongst tears that laughter so precious.
Does the same peace become monotony,
To which we forget to be grateful for?
Bound as brothers in storm; calamity!
Then becoming strangers in silence.
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The paradox
Posted by
bitingtravels
on Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Labels:
angry,
relationships,
writing
Links
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