Why counting from one, when everything will return to none?
Why do we tango in two, when it cause you nothing but blue?
Why can’t we make us three, when asylum won’t catch us free?
Why bother gather in four, when we don’t have dreams to live for?
Why launching in five, when there’s no such thing as after life?
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Why asking whys, when you won’t be around showing the beauty of lies?
1 comment:
lovely poem . . . great !!!
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