Maybe the problem is we're two romantics-
searching for fate amidst all the semantics,
praying the stars will one evening uncross,
blaming the cosmos for loves that we've lost.
We can find meaning in meaningless acts,
twisting the knives in our unblemished backs.
Maybe we ponder, we ruminate cud,
searching for answers in wishing well's mud,
all along we've had the one thing we need:
gratitude often leads hearts to be freed.
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