Poem by: youngwritter23
It is strange how this thing we call life
We are born and then we die.
They say our spirits they fly up to the
One day you are loved then
the next forgoten.
Heartache and dissapointment
So many thing happen that is rotten
But this is what they call Life.
The pain the hurt, guilt,
love, sickness, death.
Its all apart of this crazy little thing called life.
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