Before happiness or despair,
Before the realization of freedom,
Or the confusion of the unfair,
Before the knowledge that damage has been done.
Would the universe do that to me?
When I believed so strongly that it has a mind,
How could it actually not be?
When I put faith in that it could or could not think,
Why would it choose to turn against,
My secret understanding that it was looking out,
For my best interests?
But it's alright,
Even if it chooses to undermine,
My attempts to give it the benefit of the doubt,
Because I can always wait for the next sign.
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