The Rage of Living
The point of living is to feel alive
Not caged by too high walls or steely fence
We want to love,be taken by surprise.
Our wounded mangled self we can’t deride,
Recalling fights and struggles lived through once.
The point of living is to feel alive.
We dither to and fro in puzzled ways
We feel the anguish, still and quite intent.
We want to love,be taken by surprise.
The self’s spontaneous, not a thing contrived;
Formed with love and hate,with all intense.
The rage of living is to be alive.
When washed away by feelings glad,immense
That cross our borders without our lament
The hope,the need of living is our life
We want to give and take yet fear surprise
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