By : Aisyah Razak
Beginnings are scary. Endings are usually sad, but it’s the middle that counts the most. Wherever I go, it's sad to grow old.
Every steps that I take, I'm trying to not get it back. Even it's just a mistakes that I did to people. I dont know, why people letting me down, I've good insticnt to feel, if they jealous to me? Then, what I'm supposed to do? Pretend to be kind? And make them smile hardly? the way i cant do? Why people so dumb? As I grow up together ... I continue to change it with age. But, love, its never change, plus it's grow up well day by day.
I should mad. I should cry .. but why it's hard?
I didnt feel insecure with a person who hate me, because they deserved to act like what they had to feel.
I'm sorry for them, nothing much that I can do. Because even when I smile, I forget how to make the truly smile.
I wont judge people for who they are, because .. everytime they'll be judged, I dont have any time to love them for who they are, also for who they aren't.
There's no truth, no more bells rang up on my mind, I am all alone singer, lonely rests my head. Oh My God, am I dead?
This thought is a mirror of my innermost feeling.
I keep thinking, I keep writing
The summer of the valentine never be over.
It's grows, more and more
the beauty of the flowers bloom in my heart
in my soul.
