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Not like most,
cliché life stories I expect,
too much romance around,
wherein I exclude myself.

Long before I've known it,
I figured my focus was on something not so many were chasing,
It is bumpy,
Hard to go through.
While I become overly attracted to growth;
everyday of learning from mistakes and realizations,
And become a woman I would be proud of as I see her across the pedestrians of the City.

I wished to grow up so fast that
I couldn't entirely enjoy my youth.
Hence, I am now emerging into adulthood,
It is becoming so hard to breathe,
Everyday has its own worries,
Tough people are created and challenged,
Brave ones fought and remained,
Flaws are not what will get us stained,
It's unchanging behavior despite
being aware of its toxicity.
In a thin line,
there lies a faint light of hope,
A string that duplicates,
may even be building up like
chromosomes that complete every living individual.
The world is cruel,
Circumstances as well.
I want your care to be highly appreciated,
Not easily given nor taken advantaged.
There is art on how you dwell on things yet a masterpiece on how  you conquered it.
Live life,
my Beloved.
You're the metaphor itself.

merMia



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