Free people don’t love, they are used to pretend. They mask under shadows of others’ hearts, the ones who love.
Free people feel, they want but they can’t, cannot be loved. Love scares them, it hurts, they are wise.
Free people can love. They feel, they want, they don’t pretend. It’s tough, they know, but it’s sweet, it’s warm.
When free people love they dream, they exist, they feel alive. They hope, they devote, they give their hearts.
Free people don’t love, It is what I used to pretend. I was scared, it hurt, but I am wise, I learnt. Did it worth? It did, I loved, I lived.