From this world, you are buried,
Buried not by soul,
But by a false soul,
Full of anger and rage,
Living up to a false name.
You are the leftovers in the trash,
You attract all the flies,
To eat away any of the love,
That you were blessed with on this earth,
The earth that that love never saw.
Love is blind and lays deep inside,
Hate lives on our face,
Hate is the plaque that grows on you,
When you forget what's good inside,
Hate is what no man is born with.
Death kills what is inside you,
Passing every act
You performed, to mankind.
Death will not remember who you are,
Death remembers what you show.
2006-09-14
23:14:39
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11 answers
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asked by
Anonymous
in
Arts & Humanities
➔ Other - Arts & Humanities