Strange are the ways of life
Love one moment, the next, strife
Is it the fruit, or is it the knife?
Thoughts, oh thoughts, in my mind galore
Is a thought more than a bitchy whore
Which exists in endless store?
All is illusion, it is all a lie
Shackles that do nothing but tie
Would it not be better to die?
Sunday, January 07, 2007
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