November, March (inspired by simple things)

I took out my pen

I readied the paper

And I put it away again

How many times must i start over

When I am only 21

How many stories must i rewrite

When my life has just begun

Yes I am aware that I am strong

I am aware I am independent

Believe it or not, I’ve known it all along

Even when the world thought different

And yes I’ve been through far worse pain

So this should be a "walk in the park"

But one form of pain does not cancel another

I feel its snares and clutches,

Just like any other

And I know the rain is in pursuit,

And I’ll find it falling in my midst

The cure you know I can’t resist

But with freedom comes its lonely twist

I am no different to you,

I swear of this

Even in the blue, I still do miss

I still do cry and I also lie,

To myself

Is it such a crime?

Maybe I just need some time

To make the same mistake

Till I run dry

I know it sounds cliche

But just let me cry

Just let me be

Someday I’ll take out my pen

And I know I’ll write again

(Honestly, not exactly the best or deepest piece I've written, but the most honest words I could let out in 5 minutes.)