Poem

[Shytan]

There are infinite ironies
The world has to offer
Like how loneliness is felt
In a crowd,
And people only truly valued
After they're gone;

But of all these ironies
That of dissatisfaction prevails -
A vicious cycle
Of wanting what she has
While she envies what you have;
A world where we fall for the delusion and illusion,
And mask our pain in disguises and competition-
Something like being a colourful rainbow
But still craving white;
Burning like the sun
But still craving moonlight.

[Shytan]

Why do my posts keep getting moved? TF.