Hold on


It's true
An affirmation slips from my lips
I'll tell you what you want to hear.
This once.

'I'll never understand what's it like to be you.'

The fiddler on the roof witnesses
our struggles and strives
His woes, on misalignment of pocket fund delegation.
Her dire need to be embraced.
A history that weighs down heavily.

The fiddler snitches a mocking laughter at the scene.
We exchange bites.
Like savage hyenas.
The hurt just bleed a little more.

Hope dangles on a string.
Time will be my slow redemption.
My dear,
there is still space for a little beauty in this wicked world.

So hold on.
with me...

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