How lucky they are.

Those who find love with their first naive try.

They know not the pain of love so dear,

Brutally torn away,

By the one closest to their heart.

 

Oh how lucky they are,

For their trust in love is unbroken.

Their innocence untainted,

Their hope unwavering,

Their positivity unparalleled.

 

To these ones, love is everything sweet.

Everything pure, sensitive, gentle, kind.

To them, there's no fear in being recklessly in love,

Because loyalty is guaranteed.

The fall (in love) is unhindered by the fear of crushing.

Crushing because the one supposed to hold them looked away.

 

They're not afraid to get naked,

Lay their soul out,

For they have the guarantee,

That they're accepted for everything they are.

Their ugly and beautiful.

Their unusual and usual.

Their awkward and cool.

 

AND THEN THERE'S US 

 

We who wish our innocence and trust could be restored.

We who handed our glass hearts over,

Only to have them broken and trashed,

So purposely into floors of concrete.

Oh so purposely and mercilessly,

 

We who thought that love out here,

Is given with the same pure intentions,

As the love from back home.

We who innocently and naively but sincerely,

Granted access to our souls,

Only to have them defiled!

 

We who struggle to understand

How a sane human,

Looks into the eyes of another,

And utter words they don't mean,

Boldly and heartlessly.

 

Those of us who retain our child-like nature,

Hold onto what's left of our innocence.

We who choose to still believe,

That there's still good in this world.

We who dare to believe,

That what we long for shall be ours one day

 

We who despite the disappointment realize,

The joy there could be,

In a hypothetical world.

Where everyone chooses to be child-like.

Be as honest as can be,

No malice, no jealousy, no greed.

 

THEN THERE'S THEM

 

Those with nothing to benchmark love against,

For their innocence was stripped from them,

By those who should've been protecting them.

Those who can't identify betrayal,

For that's all they know.

 

It's them who push a good thing away,

Or treat it poorly,

Because it is absolutely alien.

 

These ones,

You can see the pain in their eyes,

The emptiness in their laugh,

The trauma in their avoidance,

And the restlessness in their soul.

 

These ones expect nothing.

They hope for nothing and are just glad,

Glad to pass through this place unharmed,

 

Oh, to live without hope,

To never know true affection,

To accept all things bad,

And be content with just scraps of goodness.

That's bleak.

 

OH! WHO'S GONNA HEAL US!