Dear World

Dear world,

how shall we be today,

you and I?

As I see the dawn break,

I wonder. Will you be

sunny and warm,

open and welcoming?

Or will you be too hot to bear,

sticky and discomforting,

like that first burning kiss,

madly given, badly done,

and sadly regretted?

Will you be cold to me,

like a love thrown away,

barren and chilling?

Or thrilling and nice,

in a way that says

this ice can be broken

between us two, if we could

work out what we should do?

And what of me?

How shall I be?

Shall I love you again

as I could then,

when I was a young

and foolish thing,

and you were unknown

but there for the knowing?

Or shall I hate you once more,

for your unceasing wars

and casual endings?

Each and everyday,

you just carry on,

always turning away

from this setting son.

One day, my turn will come.

How shall we be today?

Shall we endure

each other once more,

dear world?

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