What are we?
Maybe we are just a line,
we can decide to turn left or right,
but we are just a line.
And we are walking on just an unstoppable walk on.
we can't stop this walk.
And, we are never watching in front us.
We are walking, watching back
for the most of the times.
yeah back:
Inside the memories:
memories.
Inside what we think to be.
Inside the sadness.
The happiness.
Inside the first kiss.
the first love.
Maybe inside the heart.
But WHAT are we?
We can decide to be a plant,
an vegetable of the socety.
Doing what the sistem decided for us,
being just a human,
like everyone.
everyone.
Or we can.
We can decide.
To be like a god.
An imortal soul,
and walk in this world, learning everythings we can learn.
Being something superior of the human race.
An imortal soul.
But.
WHAT ARE WE?
Maybe we are, just the nothing.
inside an non-existen world.
inside an non-existen life.
WE ARE INEXISTENT.
but if this is true why am i here?
why i can read this shit?
why i can write this shit?
why.. Wait, i don't care.
I don't care nothing about all this.
Because now i'm telling what we are.
WE ARE, just drunk guys that are trying to find
to find a useless hope
because this life are fucking our ass
AND WE LOVE IT
LIKE A PUSSY, LOVE THE COCKS.
AND WE ARE LOSING THIS SHORT TIME
OF THIS USELESS LIFE
TRYING TO FIND A HOPE.
A FUCKING HOPE.
DAMN CALL ME, ASSHOLE
but we are just a shit, and the world are walking up us
and later we die.
SO WHAT ARE WE?
Goodbye.
YOU ARE READING
Another day in this fucking world
PoetryWhen you lost yourself, you found your soul.
