Short poetry's considered a prize
When one has to quickly memorize.
but why bother then
picking up that pen
when there's no space to philosophize
Being
'To be or not to be' said a poet far greater than me
But these days the
question arises and
You begin to wonder--
as your friends start to wander--
as your friends start to wander--
that mysterious yonder...
It's something to ponder.
It's something to ponder.
Your lifelong afterlife
belief
Is supposed to grant you some relief
As you contemplate your
end alone
And you wish a certain
someone would telephone
Or maybe text
about what's coming next
But instead you just struggle
to be.
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