A poem is quite meaningless if written in happiness,
For even comedies are written in times of tragedy…..
The countless times of our needs are endless,
For the sarcasm behind life in the face of reality is death……
Life’s bitterness is after all what accounts for its sweetness,
For every situation has its time of exhibition….
The silence of the graveyard doesn’t give it a study license,
For the mountains never bow to the howling of the wind…..
My preference may never be your essence,
For I was born to be nothing your future holds…..
Also Read; Writer”s Ink