Why in my ever lonely world have I to be lonely like this?
Isn’t everything I have done is not enough for me to be happy?
Why in my loneliness I can still feel this ever dreadful feeling.
When I chose to have life, wouldn’t also mean to smile or to laugh around?
When everything else is doomed to fall, am I not spare from getting things broken?
Had I been bad in the days of my youth?
For a man to suffer like this, I never had any explanation left for all I have done is as always to protect this sadness. All my days, I always believe that someday, what matters is not the agony and misery I have felt now and then but how I emerge to be someone better or best even if things are not so permissive. I believe that what is left in me would still work for me for good. I hope that this ever elusive love would someday take its rest in me and that there will be pain no more, no more selfish arguments, no more cruel judgment and finally, to pretend that all is well would no longer be an excuse to smile.
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