New poem

Slowing down, still feeling the throat ache,
It's dry and sore and keeps burning,
That sweet sour water pouring,
It takes away every single positive emotion
There was no caution
No single warning

Waiting for the skies to clear up, hoping for it to stop,
However, no matter how powerful your will may be,
No matter how much you try,
There's no end to the knife stabbing feeling in your mind

Our destiny is in our hands,
We shouldn’t take it for granted
We have to live it to the fullest

Every day is counted