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.

deathexistentialismlifemathsno answerprime numberstheories

◄ But, alas, we never do

Goals in Perspective ►

Comments

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Cathy Crabb

Thu 3rd Oct 2013 12:22

Thanks Steve. That's true and the only fact. X

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Steve Higgins

Wed 25th Sep 2013 22:59

The secret of life is this;
You are born -then you die. As for the bit in between, well thats the great mystery as Native Americans say.
This poem has a great feel to it,
best wishes, Steve

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Cathy Crabb

Wed 25th Sep 2013 12:16

Thank you for that xxx When I reach the end of my understanding of numbers I think- that's the key to life itself- that bit I don't understand!

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Rose Casserley

Tue 24th Sep 2013 21:39

Praise be for great poetry!x

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