Life was teeming within the city proper, I
was smack-dab in the middle, grasping for
something and holding on to intangibles; Joy is
such a fickle emotion; I dread the thought
of what I lack and what I can't achieve,
but only pursue, intently, and for how long
should I chase for that which I cannot
clearly see, or should I wait until I collapse
under the weight of my own desires;
I do not want pity, but share with me a smile,
just that, and I will love you forever.

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