Born To DieA Poem by Lana
Fighting to be born,
Only dying to die again Colors of the rainbow Blind the state's affairs Coursing the joke, Pretending to care Folk music instead Of mainstream pop in the air Exchanging letters with a friend General anesthesia as we speak of time Calling all the black dots from my life To justify the blind spots of crime Fighting to be born, Only to die again The jarring smell of vanity fairs Many affairs of love have put me down in flames But maybe my life could be like jam Pressed to the core, Spread on toast by the morning shore © 2024 Lana |
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