How long my friend?
How long are you clinging to the salt-splattered sore?
How long will you brood over that broken "top-notch" that needs a little more and time to heal?
How long will you stay glued to that being? The one that batters your betterment, polishes you spittle of disgruntle, gall, and bile?
How long will it take for you to point four fingers at yourself?
When will you drop the mortar and pestle from your head? The pounds and pangs of pain are no paucity.
How long my friend?
When will you drop your addiction to the odds and negatives?
When will you start transforming your dreams into legacies?
When will you get oblivious to the colors and elements and form and texture and taste and feel of misery?
When my friend?
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