The Art of Moving On
I would like to be spiteful upon hearing your name.
But the deepness of your love brings tears to my eyes and I cannot complain.
I would like to be wrought with anger upon seeing your face.
But my pains increase and decrease in an agonizing alternate.
You were everything and I am now nothing.
Begging is useless. Hoping is desprite.
I will continue on living separate.