It's clear. I told myself, bringing my knees up to my chest and looking down from the hill, watching the city lights sparkle without fail. None ever seemed to die, none ever seemed to flicker, or show signs of weakening. Why is it that humans show these signs so evidently? Why is it that we humans cannot comprehend our own thoughts and express them the way we want? Why is there just one person who tends to ruin it for a future that seems to shatter like a mirror that just broke?
My hair blows out, flowing just as elegantly and smoothly like a ribbon, the shine reflecting off the moon above. My thoughts are down here, upon my paper and pen, yet I manage to look at both.
Why? Why is it we care so much about ourselves? Is it because we have yet to discover who we truely are? That we're blessed with such offerings because of mere things that happened in the past?
Why is it that people overlook things, giving false accusations among other cultures, when ours is no different from any other?
We may be different in color, race, and individuality, but we're not different in our hearts. We all express these emotions whether we like to admit it...or not.
I drop my pen as I finish, confusion mingling about my thoughts as they're casted. Is this really what our world has come to know? I look up, and glance into the eyes of my beau, and only know one thing's for certain.
As he puts his arms around me, he whispers "we're all the same."
