Who am I
who are we
Why are we
Such bad people
My car
My house
My clothes
My sarcophagus
Who are you
Look at me
Why did you
Make a monster
My love
My darling
My sugerplum
My murderer
Who are they
They want death
Who are we
To question them
My tomb
My coffin
My grave
Your loving arms
Were all gonna die
We all pass away
Why should we cry
About something we can't change
Were all gonna suffer
We all will feel pain
This we can all confer
I’ll meet you down at the shooting range
the body we carry about is just a vessel that helps us navigate through this life, and all materialistic things are just decorations that we wear to make it in this world. True life is in being, in feeling, there is nothing like it
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like this poem. One poigniant remark in this poem: Why should we cry About something we can't change. This is a very good point. If we cannot change something then we must get used to it. There is no choice. I guess it is one of lifes little lessons. This poem also seems to dwell on people emotionaly destroying each other which gives it a deep dark emo style to it. Excellent.10/10.