To worry about you, I will,
To fill the cup you always spill,
“You're too nice,” I voice,
She hums, “It's my choice.”

“What about you” I retort,
Not a word, not a second thought,
Her heart belongs to this place,
The people within it who race.

The competitions are endless,
The struggles to be sadless,
She provides an open door,
Not expecting the uproar.

People are selfish you see,
Themselves would win over she,
But she's so naive for this stampede,
Not seeing their sharp claws of greed.

“Everyone deserves happiness,” She recites.
“All one needs is to be nice.”
If only by a line the world would care,
But continuing is the warfare.

She faces consequeses,
The emotional battle commences,
She fixes those who break,
To feel the things they ache.

But everyone is broken,
All have a story left unspoken,
No one has to be fixed,
Our feelings are allowed to be mixed.

“It's okay not to be okay,” I begin,
“All face a battle to lose or win,”
“It's up to them which path they take,”
“And you, my dear, and not responsible for the choice they make.”


“ a/n ; people will be people ; don't take
it to heart ; we're all a little stubborn. ”

© moon rayven