Face in a wordpad digging for treasures wrongly digging. -the answers lay inside of me, inside of me, inside of

me alone.

So much pain in a single day a cursed day, So many moods in a single look not necessarily into human eyes, though understanding still. So many evil arts So many bad fruits So many off-greens So many mistakes Oh, so many Freudian slips. So much stupidity So much pain So much cold So much frustration.

but noNo more.

I'll write a love poem instead.