Yet another poem. (they don't have names, sorry.) I did not know who I was
So I cried the tears of uncertainty
I knew who I was
And that who I was was not who I wanted to be
So I cried the tears of imperfection
Then I began to become who I wanted to be
And I cried the tears of realising that there would always be pain
One day, the pain stopped
And there was no longer any reason to live
Now the pain is back
I cry
But I no longer rail against the existence of the tears.
--- Breathing is important! If you don't breathe, your sound will deteriorate, your phrasing will suffer, and you will die.
