I'm constricted by the fact, that life is to share,

I just see poor judgment, and a silly content,

of stay where you were hand, to raised and to forget.

Over bed or on couch, your time shall come next,

As the rest of your days, bad-thoughts, hopes and prays.

It is said that's not true, for you to be alone,

So to them I should say, my half never became.

I've been thinking ...

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