The choices I make define the life I live,
The moves others make recreate their world.
Together the webs we weave,
The decisions we take, get more tangled each day.
Yet, I must persist on an uncertain path.
For every other way seems too logical.
Knowing that hurt is part of love
And taking responsibility for it,
Realizing that when your love moves away
You will only be loved more
For when they genuinely acknowledge your love,
Will turn your love into gratefulness,
And the more grateful they are
The more love will come their way.
Governed by my hopeful heart, I trudge on.
The cynical world, the hopeful me
For I refuse to believe, or accept that this is the end,
Or it will end like this.
