Carbon Based

The life of a fart
One begs to wonder,
Whether we seek art,
Or loot to plunder.

Must we pass like air,
Only forgotten?
Or like a corsair,
To the core, rotten.

Our life is not gas,
For we are carbon.
This as well shall pass,
Pour me a bourbon.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Time Again

Several years have come and gone To this, I've been left to fawn over thoughts of what's undone My time has come once more That I should bleed, feed, and pour my words of affliction or rather addiction Drain from me like a festered core An abscess growth that needs to purge Oozing a pain to abhor, rather than something to adore.  
Read more

さよのら

I knew it was farewell the moment that you Wrote your reply without “bb” like you used to The steps for farewell are familiar to me Constant aches and pains in agony But this one hurts different than all the rest We didn't fight. We didn't argue. We were patient, caring, and understanding.  We pushed got success workout us commanding  We wanted what's right. For each other to push through. No matter what day went, a love expanding  But this place does not make you happy, nor I I want to start all again with a bright sunny sky  And that's why we need to say goodbye You need to find you so your spirit can fly May we meet again, cause this is not the end
Read more

Forgotten Soldier

 I've done so much through my life With every accomplishment accompanied by defeat Serving as lessons so I may fight So that I may rise and stand high on my feet Though I may not have wealth Or riches or fame, to me it's all the same Thankfully I'll never know the true meaning of weak For I am not like you and I smile to those I meet  And love all those that are around me And I have something you never will As you have something I'll gladly never have I know what it's like to be loved  By those of passing and those of blood And you will never know that feeling from your offspring And even the mother that bore you This is praise that I can sing For I did not put a condition on their raising  So much is true that if you do not perish Before your wife is through You will die alone with no one to serve you You'll be forgotten By your country  By your friends  By your blood But this was the path you chose  As for me, I'll be in repose that much I propose
Read more