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Quatrain #484 - There is no such thing as.......

There is no such thing as nothing
because nothing doesn’t really exist,
and all those who think of nothing
in ignorance they may then persist.

poem by George Krokos
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Plain Truth and Blind Ignorance

Truth
'God speed you, ancient father,
And give you a good daye;
What is the cause, I praye you,
So sadly here you staye?
And that you keep such gazing
On this decayed place,
The which, for superstition,
Good princes down did raze?'

Ignorance
'Chill tell thee, by my vazen,
That zometimes che have knowne
A vair and goodly abbey
Stand here of bricke and stone;
And many a holy vrier,
As ich may say to thee,
Within these goodly cloysters
Che did full often zee.'

Truth.
'Then I must tell thee, father,
In truthe and veritie,
A sorte of greater hypocrites
Thou couldst not likely see;
Deceiving of the simple
With false and feigned lies:
But such an order truly
Christ never did devise.'

Ignorance.
'Ah! ah! che zmell the enow, man;
Che know well what thou art;
A vellow of mean learning,
Thee was not worth a vart;
Vor when we had the old lawe,
A merry world was then,
And every thing was plenty
Among all zorts of men.'

Truth.
'Thou givest me an answer,
As did the Jewes sometimes
Unto the prophet Jeremye,
When he accus'd their crimes:
' 'Twas mercy,' sayd the people,
'And joyfull in our rea'me,
When we did offer spice-cakes
Unto the queen of hea'n.''

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Olde English
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I Wanna Know (The Pit And The Pendulum)

Under the intense scrutiny of Ligeia's eyes
I have felt the full knowledge
And force of their expression
And yet been unable to possess it
And have felt it leave me
As so many other things have left
The letter half-read
The bottle half-drunk
Finding
Finding in the commonest objects of the universe
A circle of analogies
Of metaphors
Ooohhh
For that expression
Which has been willfully
withheld from me
The access to the inner soul denied
I wanna know, ooohhh
I wanna know
I wanna know, oh
I wanna know
In consideration
In consideration of the faculties and impulses
Of the human soul
Of the human soul
In consideration
Of our arrogance
Of our arrogance
Our radical, primitive irreducible arrogance of reason
We have all overlooked the propensity
We saw no need for it
The paradoxical something which we may call perverseness
Perverseness
Through its promptings we act without
Comprehensible object
We act for the reason we should not
We act for the reason we should not
For certain minds this is absolutely irre-, irre-
irresistible
irresistible
The conviction of the wrong
Or impolicy of an action
Is often the unconquerable force
The unconquerable force
It is a primitive impulse
It is a primitive impulse
Primitive impulse
The overwhelming tendency
The overwhelming tendency to do
Wrong for the wrong's sake

[...] Read more

song performed by Lou Reed
Added by Lucian Velea
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Gotham - Book III

Can the fond mother from herself depart?
Can she forget the darling of her heart,
The little darling whom she bore and bred,
Nursed on her knees, and at her bosom fed;
To whom she seem'd her every thought to give,
And in whose life alone she seem'd to live?
Yes, from herself the mother may depart,
She may forget the darling of her heart,
The little darling whom she bore and bred,
Nursed on her knees, and at her bosom fed,
To whom she seem'd her every thought to give,
And in whose life alone she seem'd to live;
But I cannot forget, whilst life remains,
And pours her current through these swelling veins,
Whilst Memory offers up at Reason's shrine;
But I cannot forget that Gotham's mine.
Can the stern mother, than the brutes more wild,
From her disnatured breast tear her young child,
Flesh of her flesh, and of her bone the bone,
And dash the smiling babe against a stone?
Yes, the stern mother, than the brutes more wild,
From her disnatured breast may tear her child,
Flesh of her flesh, and of her bone the bone,
And dash the smiling babe against a stone;
But I, (forbid it, Heaven!) but I can ne'er
The love of Gotham from this bosom tear;
Can ne'er so far true royalty pervert
From its fair course, to do my people hurt.
With how much ease, with how much confidence--
As if, superior to each grosser sense,
Reason had only, in full power array'd,
To manifest her will, and be obey'd--
Men make resolves, and pass into decrees
The motions of the mind! with how much ease,
In such resolves, doth passion make a flaw,
And bring to nothing what was raised to law!
In empire young, scarce warm on Gotham's throne,
The dangers and the sweets of power unknown,
Pleased, though I scarce know why, like some young child,
Whose little senses each new toy turns wild,
How do I hold sweet dalliance with my crown,
And wanton with dominion, how lay down,
Without the sanction of a precedent,
Rules of most large and absolute extent;
Rules, which from sense of public virtue spring,
And all at once commence a Patriot King!
But, for the day of trial is at hand,
And the whole fortunes of a mighty land
Are staked on me, and all their weal or woe
Must from my good or evil conduct flow,

[...] Read more

poem by Charles Churchill
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The Scripture of the Golden Eternity

1
Did I create that sky? Yes, for, if it was anything other than a conception in my mind I wouldnt have said 'Sky'-That is why I am the golden eternity. There are not two of us here, reader and writer, but one, one golden eternity, One-Which-It-Is, That-Which- Everything-Is.

2
The awakened Buddha to show the way, the chosen Messiah to die in the degradation of sentience, is the golden eternity. One that is what is, the golden eternity, or, God, or, Tathagata-the name. The Named One. The human God. Sentient Godhood. Animate Divine. The Deified One. The Verified One. The Free One. The Liberator. The Still One. The settled One. The Established One. Golden Eternity. All is Well. The Empty One. The Ready One. The Quitter. The Sitter. The Justified One. The Happy One.

3
That sky, if it was anything other than an illusion of my mortal mind I wouldnt have said 'that sky.' Thus I made that sky, I am the golden eternity. I am Mortal Golden Eternity.

4
I was awakened to show the way, chosen to die in the degradation of life, because I am Mortal Golden Eternity.

5
I am the golden eternity in mortal animate form.

6
Strictly speaking, there is no me, because all is emptiness. I am empty, I am non-existent. All is bliss.

7
This truth law has no more reality than the world.

8
You are the golden eternity because there is no me and no you, only one golden eternity.

9
The Realizer. Entertain no imaginations whatever, for the thing is a no-thing. Knowing this then is Human Godhood.

10
This world is the movie of what everything is, it is one movie, made of the same stuff throughout, belonging to nobody, which is what everything is.

11
If we were not all the golden eternity we wouldnt be here. Because we are here we cant help being pure. To tell man to be pure on account of the punishing angel that punishes the bad and the rewarding angel that rewards the good would be like telling the water 'Be Wet'-Never the less, all things depend on supreme reality, which is already established as the record of Karma earned-fate.

12
God is not outside us but is just us, the living and the dead, the never-lived and never-died. That we should learn it only now, is supreme reality, it was written a long time ago in the archives of universal mind, it is already done, there's no more to do.

13
This is the knowledge that sees the golden eternity in all things, which is us, you, me, and which is no longer us, you, me.

14
What name shall we give it which hath no name, the common eternal matter of the mind? If we were to call it essence, some might think it meant perfume, or gold, or honey. It is not even mind. It is not even discussible, groupable into words; it is not even endless, in fact it is not even mysterious or inscrutably inexplicable; it is what is; it is that; it is this. We could easily call the golden eternity 'This.' But 'what's in a name?' asked Shakespeare. The golden eternity by another name would be as sweet. A Tathagata, a God, a Buddha by another name, an Allah, a Sri Krishna, a Coyote, a Brahma, a Mazda, a Messiah, an Amida, an Aremedeia, a Maitreya, a Palalakonuh, 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 would be as sweet. The golden eternity is X, the golden eternity is A, the golden eternity is /\, the golden eternity is O, the golden eternity is [ ], the golden eternity is t-h-e-g-o-l-d-e-n-e-t-e-r- n-i-t-y. In the beginning was the word; before the beginning, in the beginningless infinite neverendingness, was the essence. Both the word 'god' and the essence of the word, are emptiness. The form of emptiness which is emptiness having taken the form of form, is what you see and hear and feel right now, and what you taste and smell and think as you read this. Wait awhile, close your eyes, let your breathing stop three seconds or so, listen to the inside silence in the womb of the world, let your hands and nerve-ends drop, re-recognize the bliss you forgot, the emptiness and essence and ecstasy of ever having been and ever to be the golden eternity. This is the lesson you forgot.

15
The lesson was taught long ago in the other world systems that have naturally changed into the empty and awake, and are here now smiling in our smile and scowling in our scowl. It is only like the golden eternity pretending to be smiling and scowling to itself; like a ripple on the smooth ocean of knowing. The fate of humanity is to vanish into the golden eternity, return pouring into its hands which are not hands. The navel shall receive, invert, and take back what'd issued forth; the ring of flesh shall close; the personalities of long dead heroes are blank dirt.

16
The point is we're waiting, not how comfortable we are while waiting. Paleolithic man waited by caves for the realization of why he was there, and hunted; modern men wait in beautified homes and try to forget death and birth. We're waiting for the realization that this is the golden eternity.

17
It came on time.

[...] Read more

poem by Jack Kerouac
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The Ghost And Me

The ghost and me
The ghost and me.
Are one and the same.
We don't exist.
We are never to be seen.

Everybody has washed their hand clean of...
A mistake that never happen.
A birth that was more like a regurgitation.
I didn't mean to do that.
Oh oh but you did.

The ghost and me
The ghost and me.
Are one and the same.
We don't exist.
We are never to be seen.

Now tell me
How hard is it to forgive
When one denies you everyday..?
Oh just disappear.
I wish you weren't here.
Those are the words I continuously hear.

The ghost and me
The ghost and me.
Are one and the same.
We don't exist.
We are never to be seen.

Voices marching to a beat.
Voices marching to an eventual defeat.
Running through a slaughter house just to fix a broken soul.
An what does it expose?
Is the blood real?
A talentless man with no cloths.

The ghost and me
The ghost and me.
Are one and the same.
We don't exist.
We are never to be seen.

I hate it.
It isn't fair.
But in this world of despair.
Tears will never heal these wounds.
For they're continuously felt each and everyday.
The pain will never go away.

[...] Read more

poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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The Teares of the Muses

Rehearse to me ye sacred Sisters nine:
The golden brood of great Apolloes wit,
Those piteous plaints and sorrowful sad tine,
Which late ye powred forth as ye did sit
Beside the siluer Springs of Helicone,
Making your musick of hart-breaking mone.
For since the time that Phoebus foolish sonne
Ythundered through Ioues auengefull wrath,
For trauersing the charret of the Sunne
Beyond the compasse of his pointed path,
Of you his mournfull Sisters was lamented,
Such mournfull tunes were neuer since inuented.

Nor since that faire Calliope did lose
Her loued Twinnes, the dearlings of her ioy,
Her Palici, whom her vnkindly foes
The fatall Sisters, did for spight destroy,
Whom all the Muses did bewaile long space;
Was euer heard such wayling in this place.

For all their groues, which with the heauenly noyses,
Of their sweete instruments were wont to sound,
And th' hollow hills, from which their siluer voyces
Were wont redoubled Echoes to rebound,
Did now rebound with nought but rufull cries,
And yelling shrieks throwne vp into the skies.

The trembling streames, which wont in chanels cleare
To romble gently downe with murmur soft,
And were by them right tunefull taught to beare
A Bases part amongst their consorts oft;
Now forst to ouerflowe with brackish teares,
With troublous noyse did dull their daintie eares.

The ioyous Nymphes and lightfoote Faeries
Which thether came to heare their musick sweet,
And to the measure of their melodies
Did learne to moue their nimble shifting feete;
Now hearing them so heauily lament,
Like heauily lamenting from them went.

And all that els was wont to worke delight
Through the diuine infusion of their skill,
And all that els seemd faire and fresh in sight,
So made by nature for to serue their will,
Was turned now to dismall heauinesse,
Was turned now to dreadfull vglinesse.

Ay me, what thing on earth that all thing breeds,
Might be the cause of so impatient plight?

[...] Read more

poem by Edmund Spenser
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Holding On With Wishes To Experience This

Altrhough...
They're slipping with a gripping,
To a bottomless pit.
With an ignorance addicted unresisted.

And,
Holding on and wishing to experience it...
Are the ones who practice posing,
In a darkened abyss.
With a proving that an ignorance for them is bliss.

The people of today...
Are crazed with beliefs.
And refusing to release,
All delusions they've been feeding.

The people of today...
Are crazed with beliefs,
That the only life to live,
Is the one of deceit.

Holding on with wishes to experience this,
Darkened abyss...
With a proving that an ignorance for them is bliss.

Holding on with wishes to experience this,
Darkened abyss...
With a proving that an ignorance for them is bliss.

The people of today...
Are crazed with beliefs.
And refusing to release,
All delusions they've been feeding.

The people of today...
Are crazed with beliefs,
That the only life to live,
Is the one of deceit.

Holding on with wishes to experience this,
Darkened abyss...
With a proving that an ignorance for them is bliss.

They keep on holding onto to wishes to experience this,
Darkened abyss...
With a proving that an ignorance for them is bliss.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Dear Miss Lonely Hearts

Dear miss lonely hearts
I had to write this letter
To tell you how i came to meet her
She was sweet but i dated her sister
That's how i made my mistake
And i can't forget her
I felt depressed
Till a friend of mine suggested
That i write to this address
So unless you can find a cure
For my loneliness
It will persist, it will persist
Lonely boy
Looking for another
Lonely girl
To love one another
Lonely hearts
Turn to each other
Lonely souls
Lonely souls
Dear lonely boy
I doubt if my reply
Will bring much joy
It seems from your letter that you lied
Or strongly implied
That you were satisfied
To take her sister by your side
I became distressed
At your total lack of tactfulness
So at best
All i can suggest
Is that you resist
And you put an end
To such thoughts of silliness
Lonely boy
Looking for another
Lonely girl
To love one another
Lonely hearts
Turn to each other
Lonely souls
Lonely souls
Dear miss lonely hearts
I've got problems
You're the only one i know that can solve them
I love a girl but i'm dating her sister
And if i persist in my pursuit i will kiss her
Dear lonely girl
I doubt if this reply will bring much joy
But you must not trust this boy

[...] Read more

song performed by Thin Lizzy
Added by Lucian Velea
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Dear Miss Lonely Hearts- Lynott

Dear miss lonely hearts
I had to write this letter
To tell you how i came to meet her
She was sweet but i dated her sister
That's how i made my mistake
And i can't forget her
I felt depressed
Till a friend of mine suggested
That i write to this address
So unless you can find a cure
For my loneliness
It will persist, it will persist
Lonely boy
Looking for another
Lonely girl
To love one another
Lonely hearts
Turn to each other
Lonely souls
Lonely souls
Dear lonely boy
I doubt if my reply
Will bring much joy
It seems from your letter that you lied
Or strongly implied
That you were satisfied
To take her sister by your side
I became distressed
At your total lack of tactfulness
So at best
All i can suggest
Is that you resist
And you put an end
To such thoughts of silliness
Lonely boy
Looking for another
Lonely girl
To love one another
Lonely hearts
Turn to each other
Lonely souls
Lonely souls
Dear miss lonely hearts
I've got problems
You're the only one i know that can solve them
I love a girl but i'm dating her sister
And if i persist in my pursuit i will kiss her
Dear lonely girl
I doubt if this reply will bring much joy
But you must not trust this boy

[...] Read more

song performed by Thin Lizzy
Added by Lucian Velea
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Dear Miss Lonely Hearts

Dear miss lonely hearts
I had to write this letter
To tell you how i came to meet her
She was sweet but i dated her sister
That's how i made my mistake
And i can't forget her
I felt depressed
Till a friend of mine suggested
That i write to this address
So unless you can find a cure
For my loneliness
It will persist, it will persist
Lonely boy
Looking for another
Lonely girl
To love one another
Lonely hearts
Turn to each other
Lonely souls
Lonely souls
Dear lonely boy
I doubt if my reply
Will bring much joy
It seems from your letter that you lied
Or strongly implied
That you were satisfied
To take her sister by your side
I became distressed
At your total lack of tactfulness
So at best
All i can suggest
Is that you resist
And you put an end
To such thoughts of silliness
Lonely boy
Looking for another
Lonely girl
To love one another
Lonely hearts
Turn to each other
Lonely souls
Lonely souls
Dear miss lonely hearts
I've got problems
You're the only one i know that can solve them
I love a girl but i'm dating her sister
And if i persist in my pursuit i will kiss her
Dear lonely girl
I doubt if this reply will bring much joy
But you must not trust this boy

[...] Read more

song performed by Thin Lizzy
Added by Lucian Velea
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Dear Miss Lonely Hearts- Lynott

Dear miss lonely hearts
I had to write this letter
To tell you how i came to meet her
She was sweet but i dated her sister
That's how i made my mistake
And i can't forget her
I felt depressed
Till a friend of mine suggested
That i write to this address
So unless you can find a cure
For my loneliness
It will persist, it will persist
Lonely boy
Looking for another
Lonely girl
To love one another
Lonely hearts
Turn to each other
Lonely souls
Lonely souls
Dear lonely boy
I doubt if my reply
Will bring much joy
It seems from your letter that you lied
Or strongly implied
That you were satisfied
To take her sister by your side
I became distressed
At your total lack of tactfulness
So at best
All i can suggest
Is that you resist
And you put an end
To such thoughts of silliness
Lonely boy
Looking for another
Lonely girl
To love one another
Lonely hearts
Turn to each other
Lonely souls
Lonely souls
Dear miss lonely hearts
I've got problems
You're the only one i know that can solve them
I love a girl but i'm dating her sister
And if i persist in my pursuit i will kiss her
Dear lonely girl
I doubt if this reply will bring much joy
But you must not trust this boy

[...] Read more

song performed by Thin Lizzy
Added by Lucian Velea
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In my best friend's memory

Imagine, you alone know I exist
And I'm not sure you care enough
To pause and to imagine even this

My life-line, bonded in fragility
Together with the palpitating heart
Of worlds in which the living still persist

My dedicated number, postal box
E-mail address and names that keep
My last connections to the hosts remote

With no back-up, residual site
Except hard copy paper notes
You stuffed into the pocket of a winter coat

Imagine, I am known only by you
In this world, real and virtual alike
And I am weighed within your hands if not

Condemned already to your attic drawer
The tissues of a heart you left behind
A tiny scene in stories you forgot

However you erase or try to crush
The memories I scattered in this world
I will persist in calling you to find

These stubborn thoughts of me that will not die
That make my claim and furnish proof that I
Exist, or once existed in your mind.

poem by Frank Bana
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The Ant

A sixty feet long ant
With a hat on its head,
That doesn’t exist, that doesn’t exist.

An ant pulling a cart
Full of penguins and ducks
That doesn’t exist, that doesn’t exist.

An ant speaking French,
Speaking Latin and Javanese,
That doesn’t exist, that doesn’t exist.

Hey! Why not?

poem by Robert Desnos from Storysongs (Chantefables) (1945), translated by Dan CostinaÅŸ
Added by Dan CostinaÅŸ
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Pray Sincerely

There may exist various types of lamps
They'd have been from different camps.

They may exist made of various materials
They may be made for the Imperials.

They may exist in divergent shapes
In multifarious forms even as of grapes.

They may exist in many hues predominant
Made of disparate colours prominent.

They may contain oils multiform
Each with a varying viscosity norm.

They may hold distinct types of wicks
Each made of diverse sticks and picks.

Though the lamps are amply diversified
In all aspects they are one from inside.

And when all of them are ignited
Lo! They are in the same way lighted!

All have the same light energy of flame
A gas in excited state, the plasma—to name.

All forms of lamps from their foundation
Emit the same brilliant illumination.

There may exist different views of the Divine
And different paths may exist to reach the Divine.

But the mode of approach to attain the goal
Is our sincere effort to pray with heart and soul.

poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
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Days to Dazzle In Pretensions No Longer Exist

Whatever is given.
And however that is meant.
Why do many get upset,
When they receive exactly...
What to them has been sent!

Days to Dazzle In Pretensions No Longer Exist

Why is it believed,
By some.
What they do that has been done,
Is okay?
And an acceptance of it,
Should be kept that way.

Days to Dazzle In Pretensions No Longer Exist

Too many people are the 'cause'.
And not the solution to prevent.
Or a pause that should be long taken,
With no attention given spent.

Days to Dazzle In Pretensions No Longer Exist

Some have established themselves as 'saints'.
While others full of themselves,
Do not have to eliminate a single thing...
To emanate fumes from them that 'stink'.
And/or past tense from them that 'stank'!
Whatever is the preference.

Days to Dazzle In Pretensions No Longer Exist

With their quick judgements to pass.
Like fresh air blocking gas.
A picture alone,
Paints a thousand words.

Days to Dazzle In Pretensions No Longer Exist

Whatever is given.
And however that is meant.
Why do many get upset,
When they receive exactly...
What to them has been sent!
As intended upon the return ot it.

Days to Dazzle In Pretensions No Longer Exist

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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If The Surface For Them Did Not Exist

If the surface didn't exist,
Many wouldn't have a thought to cling to.
Many wouldn't know,
Which gossip heard was true.
If the surface for them did not exist.

If the surface didn't exist,
The many dependent on having lives not their own...
Would be lost without being told what to do.
Many absolutely would not have a clue...
How to find their way around,
Without following in someone's footsteps.
If the surface they sniffed did not exist.

And if the surface for them did not exist...
They would not be able to sit alone,
Doing something completely on their own...
And appreciating life,
With the minding of their own business.
If...
The surface for many did not exist,
It would be taumatic for them to seek a thought process.
Many would not know where or how to begin.

So many are accustomed to living lives that are shallow.
With an ability only to identify with that...
Which is supplied and arrives to them surfacely.
Even a dog sniffing tries to find a place to bury a bone.
And doing that alone.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Want to Exist- Mary's Story

Answer me this;
riddle me that;

enigma-surrounded
I retreat,

to the isolated and the cruel snide
for solace

against you and others
who
think this is a debate,
or argument,
when for me
it is about
whether I exist.

No, gentlemen,
ladies we engage here
not in idle gossip wars
for me this is more serious
and masks,
despite my telling my self
it is less than that,
in fact,
for me
mental survival is at stake here;

all the more so
when I see it is not that way for thee;

it makes me feel smaller still
that you can play with life
indeed, even in this conversation;

as if for you
nothing is a stake;

oblivious to,
that for me,

all is at risk;
the half-healed wound
stabbed again.

There is no quarter here
asked for
or given;
you must die metaphorically
for me

[...] Read more

poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Evil Created by God?

Challenged with this university question,
One researched Truth's 'whole confession.'

How many, to such a question, might dare say yes;
If God created evil then He is evil, one might guess.

But, then, one student did profoundly asked:
'Tell me professor, does cold exist to last...? '

The professor replied, 'Of course it exists.'
What was this brassy student's logic, or gist?

Amazingly, the bold student retorted, 'That's not true.'
'With laws of physics, cold is the absence of heat (for you) .'

All can succumb to a proven study, as energy will transmit.
Cold does not exist; the word only describes how we feel, to fit.

The calm student continued, 'Sir, does darkness exist? '
The confident professor retorted, 'Of course it does.'

The student replied, 'Again, Sir, that's not right;
Darkness is actually the absence of the Light.'

Newton 's prism is used to break light into colours of aura.
Wavelengths cannot measure an unilluminated area.

The light's ray can break a world of darkness, illuminating it.
Darkness is termed to describe the absence of light, present.

Finally the youth asked, 'Sir, does evil exist? '
A bit unsure the man said, 'Of course (not wanting to resist) .'

At last the youth replied, 'Evil does not exist Sir (neath God's rod) .'
Evil does not exist 'unto itself, ' it is simply the absence of God.'

'God did not create evil, He created beings with free-choice.'
The youth was Albert Einstein; I am 'only relating his voice.'

poem by ArmourQuill Hunter
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Literature and Quantum Physics

Mind spoke:

I have been the Driver of all history
for animal and man,
I've fueled Progress,
built cities,
discovered science
literature, poetry
all of this due to me:
Mind.

Imagination Spoke:

You Mind
are not of consequence
without me
Imagination.

Whatever spark might have
fired your brain
came from my fashioning
events in you Mind
to creativity,
to art
for you are merely physical seat
the vehicle,
But I Imagination
am the driver.

Body Spoke:

The two of you have no independent existence,
no living space
without me Body.

I am that temple
which houses you.

I am the physical portal
which interacts with the
world.
Whatever you can see or think Mind
or you Imagination, can imagine
is filtered thorough me Body
and flesh though I am
few doubt my ultimate power.

For surely as you both have your place
but both of you are mental most
and cannot walk or run,

[...] Read more

poem by Lonnie Hicks
Added by Poetry Lover
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My World Your World

Why should I love someone who's horrible to me?
Why should I love someone who will never love me?
Why should I care about someone I can't count on?
Why should I love when I can hate?

If I hate you will you survive?
If I hate you will I die?
If I hate you I hope you crumble
If I hate you I hope you cry

If you hate me why do I care?
Why should I care?

If love didn't exist what would happen?
If love didn't exist would we talk?
If love didn't exist I would have no troubles

If love was made up you'd b alone
If love was made up you would crumble

In my world you love me
In my world I'm happy
In my world I can count on you
In my world I can love
In my world everyone cares

In my world your in my league
In my world I'm good-looking
In my world no one hurts me
In my world no one harms me

In my world bullies don't exist
In my world everything is perfect
In my world everything is picturesque
In my world dreams come true
In my world dreams exist

in your world what happens?
Am I loved in there?
Am I happy in there?
Do I even exist in there?

Do you kill in there?
Do you rule over everyone in there?
Do people smile?
Do people cry?
Do people die?

What happens?

poem by Mathew Stewart
Added by Poetry Lover
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