the pretentious world

By
tears streaming down her face;
the salt water rushing like a river flowing downhill.
yet the only reason is self-pity,
that she herself is crying,
in her moment of pure weakness -
in her most vulnerable self.
the truth is, the world is not a wonderful place,
as they tell her,
as they want her to believe.
she won't believe it.
she has seen too much of the world to believe it.
the tears glisten on her face,
as raindrops glisten on budding roses.
yet the spring does not touch her,
because her only focus is power,
although she has none.
beauty no longer exists.





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