perfection is a beautiful lie,
conected up with-in the soul beneath the heart,
tied up with hidden talents.
you musn't corrupt the happiness, in the world.
eveen if that means, dying.
there isnt any crying.
in this perfect world of ours.
you cant show your hurt.
you musnt show, feel, or give any pain.
but for you must love.
love a passionate love.
a real love.
it's easier than silence.
but sometimes we would rather wish for something we had,
than what we have.
but its harder,
harder than you think.
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