No one remembers conception... Is it fair?...We must deal with inception? And a life-time of shit-- Where things just don't fit! What's the deal? With our given perception? We "think" so we ARE We contemplate stars We are truly the "highest" of beings-- But with-out a doubt We are whirling about With much "stuff" but Have lost all our meaning. And "death" must creep in... Like a "life-sentenced" sin To make EVERTHING so complicated... From our birth until death With each passing breath... Why the hell were we ever created?Birth sign: Pisces
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