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Don’t always make Sense May 22, 2011

Filed under: Poetry — poetrybee @ 7:52 pm

What’s the point of living when you have nothing to die for?

What’s the point of succeeding if you have nothing to try for?

I’m actually happy that I have things I would cry for

I have things I would die for

And that’s good, you should have them

Don’t doubt them

Look at your life; take a bite out of it

Get the worth out of it

Get something, or you’ll end up with nothing

I was on track, and then I messed around

I’m now trying to build the buildings I knocked down

You can turn the volume up; I still can’t hear a sound

What’s a happy face? And upside down frown

What are citizens without a town?

It’s nothing

Like two things pressed against each other but still not touching

It’s bluffing

The volcano is erupting

Better run, before the police get to hand cuffing

For the crime you didn’t commit

The things that matter, don’t always make sense


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