I seem to admire the irony,
how things can blossom in death,
and bloom in darkness,
and the sun still rises and falls the same way,
no changes in good or misfortune,
alive or dead,well or in panic,
i know people complain of suicide
begging for affection or attention,
but stop and listen to the souls in the wind
playing in the night with harmony and conviction,
in there lost innocence,
maybe they envy the living.try to take
a lesson from the dead, life is short,
love your self and admire the dead.
we all will have a plot in the graveyard someday,
that's are only common ground that we share!
© Copyright 2016 the dead poet. All rights reserved.
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