16. 10. 2013

I couldn’t know the thing I chase
Would be the slightest word of praise
Given away without awareness
Of words to be the deepest cravings
That are like seeds for flower-beds.
I feel the gratitude as debts
That I’m bound to return.
What should I do? I never learn.
The strength of being independent
And being brave as I intended
My soul’s descending…
It’s dependant


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