I stopped asking rain to explain
why it came on a clear blue day.
Stopped giving old wounds new names,
stopped begging the past to stay.
Some doors close without a sound.
Some people leave. No last goodbye.
Some things we lose come back around;
some never do, we don't know why.
We make little gods of "maybe",
build whole lives on "what if..."
But not every ending needs saving.
Sometimes you loved, you lost, you lived.
It is what it is.
It is what it is
© Copyright: Елена Ильиных72, 2026
Свидетельство о публикации №126101304814
Свидетельство о публикации №126101304814
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