What It seems Is What It Is

That could have been me,

The one that sorrows

And is on their knee. 

That could have been you, 

The one who is arrogant

But is secretly admired by few.

That could have been anyone

In whom we flee from

And never end up becoming someone.

But that is only an assumption,

What if it was in the past?

That was me,

The one that was in sorrow

And kneeled in my scraped knee.

That was you,

Who seemed modest but was arrogant,

And believed to be admired. 

That was everyone,

Who always flee

Because they believe they are someone.

But that was all in the past,

What if it was happening now?

This is me, 

The one who blocks sorrow

And always fall on my own knee.

This is you, 

Who seems so modest but arrogant,

And seeming to be admired by all.

This is everyone,

Who flee without a purpose

And seem to be someone.

Our differences should not cut our boundaries

But our beliefs,

Perspectives are changed daily,

But it is not something that we cannot reach. 


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