Devour this

Poor and meaningless.
Looking for answers;
For a simple way out.
Looking for somewhere to belong,
A simple being;
And some complicated love.
Looking for hope to devour,
In a simple delicate flower.

It's exactly what it seems.

What's a connection
Without a deception?
Yet walking with the rain
There's a need
To remember the pain;
Of loving.
There's never going to be
Any Forgiveness.
Weather it was promised,
Or not.
There's always going to be
Regrets.
Weather you like it,
Or not.

Often distracted by the
Internal war between
US;
That it comes into conflict with our
Own sanity.

Love is a mental disease.