On a misty evening, shadows whispering secrets, a figure emerged in the dim light. He approached a solitary bench, nestled among ancient trees, its wooden slats worn with time. With caution, he lowered himself onto his bench of thought, a place where solace and contemplation intertwined.
With round brown eyes, he scanned the surroundings, searching for solace in the scenery. The troubles and misfortunes of his life weighed heavily upon him, like burdens too heavy to bear alone. In this moment, he allowed himself to vent, releasing the stifled emotions that threatened to consume him.

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐁𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

In contemplation, I find myself
On a bench of deep thought and reflection
With a breeze blowing through my hair
As I gently comb through my emotions.

In this moment, I sit on my bench
With round brown eyes searching for meaning
Seeking to release the burden of my struggles
And the misfortunes that seem to cling to me.

On this bench, I find solace
With hand to cheek, and heart to soul
Exploring the complexities of this life
And the way in which it can feel like a cruel joke.

For those of us in the middle class
Life can often feel like a rigged game
A never-ending cycle of work and worry
But we keep combing through our emotions
Hoping to find the beauty in the struggle