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The trouble with being born
I hold no grudge against life,
Just one,
That i was born,
I never could master this Life game,
Where everything comes down to vain,
The challenges life throws,
The wins and despairs,
The meaninglessness of it all,
My endless ranting for a still life,
Seizes with a lesson,
That life's an ocean,
With ripples, waves and tides,
Like a flower that withers away,
One day,
The stillness i crave,
Be got in a Grave..


© cacti