Poetry

Sigh

Everyday I sit on my bed, starring at my ceiling,

Dreaming of a life, a life that may never come true.

They say to have hope, to keep on believing. Little do they know that faith doesn’t come easy to the ones with continuous racing minds.

In my little life of experience, I have learned that dream are bliss. Bliss that leave you hopeless and faithless.

My heart breaks with every rejection email received, with little to hope for, I cry myself to sleep with the promise He once made in mind…

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