If I could
make you know what I feel,
predicting the waves hitting across
that had got me drowned.
If I could
make you know the state
and the solitude ,
that had already torn me before.
If I could
make you see the grief,
without a mere judgement
and those humors.
If I could
myself see the changes
and adopt them often ,
and learn to be quiet.
If I could
myself do not bother enough
to mind at all,
for all the wrong deeds.
If I could
save myself from all the tears
that rolled down,
and made me empathize again and again.
If I could
ever make you
go through all my concepts ,
and those nothings as well.
If I could
choose to be happier
with everything I possess
than with everything
I have with me .

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