In between connection and isolation,
searching for the purpose in the weakness.
Imperfection is flaunted by everyone
But can we be blessed in our meekness?
I hear everyone should be accepted for anything
I also hear their anger at my disagreement
But in their confusion they love their suffering.
I know their hearts can be broken. So can cement.
Could I really accept it all? Should we?
I find logic is invalid and ignored.
Yet logic says one is right, not both you and me.
Theres so many dead in this horde.
A diamond is worth less than a man,
yet as people we leave so fast.
We preserve diamonds. We scheme. We plan.
But do we care if our friends will last?
A quarter way through and I'm dying.
Before I know it I'll be there.
I'm going to spend my time trying.
I want you to know that I care.
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