On an upward note,
If we look close enough,
we'll observe that there's nothing free in this world.
Even beggers have to trade their integrity to the things they beg for, bit by bit, until there's nothing left to trade.
The irony here is,
When origin of life itself is from a mother's pure heart,
Who, after giving her own part to the baby,
don't want anything in return, it's clear that
we ourselves makes everything a matter of business.
I think there begins our sadness.
Not everything are meant to be traded.
Some things are meant to be kept and cherished but sure can be exchanged with a good faith in our hearts.
One such thing is a daughter,
With a plain beautiful heart,
Who is traded in so called weddings,
And then she's torn apart.
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