Some days you would find the most uncomfortable of the silences,
And threading across that path up the slope, alongside that busy road,
Hey also, beware of the cyclists, please!
Along beautiful paths, too lovely to be dreadfully silent,
Along that lake, into woods,
Thorough this unforgivable cold, mountains,
And most of not so you circumstances,
Bonds and moments later,
You would be habitual of this discomfort,

Even when you could go back to sugared milk teas,
You would keep that green tea, black coffee by the side,
Even after meeting back your year-long best of friends,
You would miss that evening,
When they all went to play around the city,
Just the way you had planned on that paper,
Yes behind that research paper, of course, it was an important thing,

And maybe someday you would be living around that cold slope,
Happily eating that spinach soup you hated the most,
Along with a long known, not being alone, which you feared the most,
For that, you never know,
When discomfort can grow and outgrow to be your comfort!