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by Amber
Rated: E · Poetry · Environment · #2233334
Centuries go by but the stories continue.

Children, is all we are

We play the game knowing we'll lose

When we do we throw the bats

And weep for help

Weep until we are satisfied

We fall into the moments

Until the moment disappears

We get the help

Then we run along do the same thing

The cycle repeats itself

A running child falls, scrapes his knees

Cries and weeps

Yet runs again on the same path he fell

Such disappointments people are

So foolish so childish

Thinking their words make sense

Their thoughts are deep

They've figured it out

But others will laugh upon us

As we did before them

They'll read our foolish tales

As we live them

They'll think they've figured it out

But no matter their intellect

They'll be as dull as the next man

But I sure speak a lot of my fellow fools

I am too a fool myself

No surprise!

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