These last lines have been a lie
to entertain my morbid side
and rekindle my fascination
with the foolishness some call life.
My soul rejoices with every dawn
and weeps again for every dusk
because I know that every day
is Death ignoring me again.
Something fell from my mind today
and splatted on the ground
I don’t know what it was
But I don’t miss it
So how’s life?
it’s ok for a fiber-filled oat square covered in cinnamon, but personally, I prefer Frosted Flakes…
If two stick people had sex, would it start a fire?