To Me...
I left a realm of paper streets,
My feet as sharpened pencils,
To find another full of beats,
From problems solved with wrong utensils.
The thing in life I hate the most,
If there is hate at all,
Is that forever running fast,
Makes you forget you fall.
Sometimes we do our very best to lose an easy battle,
Just to prove to all the rest that nothing can be settled.
It pains my mind to see a lot of racism, poverty, disease and sorrow,
Mainly because, I know my heart
Expects nothing different from tomorrow.
Changing the past, present and future cannot be done in a blink,
But we have to pay to tutor the way we act and think.
No one was borne a wit of life,
Nobody dies with all accomplished.
We are too vain and we all strive,
So all the bad still stays unpunished.
Now I sit and walk and talk and try
To find a merry thing in existence,
Which throughout uttering “Good bye!”
Stays merry without any assistance.
There is no way to say this right, so it should be just written plain,
Without adding, without fright: Is this life really lived in vain?
Copyright © Luminita Stoica | Year Posted 2007
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