''self' 'reflection'
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Its dawn. The nocturnal dusk slowly dissolves into the soft morning light, blending with the first sun rays coming through the delicate foliage and the sparkling dew, like ephemeral emerald drops, reflecting life and hope.
We have all come such long ways.
whether near to our dear, or far from home,
with each a story of our own
It may be patience, trust or love,
new chapters just to prove
Joyous people make me sick sometimes
Not because they're joyous
Nor because they're people
But because they're joyous around me
Seeing them happy gives me red eyes, a simple person ready to commit crimes