We all have a terminal illness
and its simply called life
Each day we tolerate it
The more pain and strife
We pick at each other
and poke at each other
Tryin to win
when what we should be doin
Is shedding or skin
the illness starts from the day we are born
One day we open our eyes
and our bodies all tattered and torn
we lash out at others
when we should be healing ourselves
but we are so bewildered
we make ourselves worse
By grasping, abusing
and muttering in curse
We belittle so many
and forget we too are them
so start looking for a cure
and lets all become friends
Comments
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there is this saying that i heard once that this kind of reminds me off, well mainly the title. , don't take life too serious, you will never make it out alive. but i do agree with the point of this poem, well from what i see. in the end why not work together, keep it flowing
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