Poetry Blogs (no answer)
The Prime of Life
Why look for a pattern in the whole
And split the soul?
Some things just are.
I know when fate knocks
My socks off
I won’t ask why...
I’ll be very annoyed
But still- I’ll die,
Stop stock-still
Without a breath;
A fraction of a life,
A whole load of death.
Into myself and one
With the cycle of time;
I’ll become the prime.
Monday 23rd September 2013 12:04 pm
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