People change like seasons.
One day a smile with a hug.
The next day they cut you with glass.
You bleed, then heal, then bleed.
Until no more blood is left in your sadistic veins.
People cry like tsunamis.
They take with them everything.
They kill who they want and leave them to rot.
Their decaying body searching for death when is already carcass.
Destroying with tears the petals of their hearts.
People get scared like rats.
When an attack of an intruder rises, they run into every hole.
Searching for an exit, searching for the tiniest sight of life.
Unless they have a gun, if they do, they are "powerful".
In the end, a human without a weapon isn't a human.
We are simply a weak, ignorant, piece of space.
No matter where we run or hide we kill.
With every step we make, and every time we breathe.
One human represents all of us.
However, we try so hard to have a little bit of uniqueness.
When we don't have it at all.
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