Because in the previous years across that cement road
with the beastly family that secretly whispered and snickered;
the harsh sentences they spoke from their thin, cherry lips
were daggers under the pillows;
the words were imprinted into the children’s minds;
(what was happiness to them—)
and because in those years,
those children didn’t seem to understand what was said,
their naivety was overcoming the darkness of reality—
they grew into people that overcame those thoughts and secrets;
fighting against all the words and hissed whispers,
(—what makes normality and beauty—)
and because faced with more difficulties;
more gossip and more mouths,
it was then that it was right next to them,
reality’s venom trying to tear apart their limbs and bones,
they continued to grow even so—
(—who cares for the statistics and the reports; they were people—)
and because they retained such purity in life,
they overcame all those expectations,
they believed in themselves,
they grew into people that lived;
they became happiness itself—
(—and people don’t matter, but then, with this realization,
they began to love; to realize what actual beauty is—)
and because they became happiness
they lived with painted smiles that crashed into life’s canvas;
despite all the struggles and the troubles,
(—the doubts and the fears—)
the tears and the woes,
the losses and the grievances;
with the odds against them,
(—it was the struggles in life,
the fact that they had survived,
was what made their lives beautiful—
it was the fact that
they still managed to live
that made beauty.)
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