A Passive Pessimistic Poor.

Perhaps the encompassment of a transparent wall is only seen by me.
or I'm the only one who feels it and knows how cold its surface is.

I don't know. Have no idea.

Maybe I've always been waiting for the one who can break into it.
Probably it has been me who building the wall tight and hard, while shouting out to get someone rending it.
Definitely irritation has been originated from me.

This locked-up mind finally gets me finding an outstretching distance btwn you and me.
And once again, the shackle of my waist is fastened and it warned me to look over the wall surrounding me.

But I've saved my smile and appreciation more and more as I've built this wall solider and firmer.

Nevertheless, I'm smothered by the rotten of this beautiful thank in me that I've especially taken care of for the one.

I'd be able to say that I regret that the shame i made to those hands you reached out to me.

However, I'm the 'Han'man'.
It'll be me. It'll be me suffering from the shackle on my waist and the tightness of breathing that I made for myself.

I'll be suffering all the time from the thing I made, called 'isolation'.