You could not make an attempt, or find your inner love.
It was not up to me, not even when the pain stopped.
Cut from somewhere in the deep, two strings holding the world.
The generic point is to change, light up the day.
Sometimes it’s too dark to see, tormented by the change.
I wonder if my thoughts are heard? Why lay waste to an absent opportunity?
No one is truly sure of an accomplishment, though such talk has never killed change.