Free Play

An overload in confusion morphs into sadness.

A series of sadness that you either pick yourself from, or allowing it to spread like that of some contagious viruses, never building resistence, just endless dissapointments.

Some actions unethical, some people in constant denial.

Lies she heard too many, deceit she's staring, truth you claim she's not believing.

Respect she didn't earn, that way of behavior she doesn't understand.

She writes for she chokes on those words, she does not question for she's passively waiting for truth, she does not share for she sees no point.

If sharing of thoughts cost you adjustments, she rather not.

They, she knew from start are modifications too unrealistic, adjustments impossible.

That life she does not own, that behaviour she can't control.

Do which you feel most appropriate, but she won't tell.

If it has to be a game, let it be free play with no rules.

This game she had no interest in playing, this game new to everybody.

This game will hurt somebody.