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My City, Gen-Next, Slammed

What if…

Roll not tears on my death There should be a reservoir to roll What is the loss to anyone in the damage There should be a broken heart to know and understand the value of toll
Photo: The Conversation
By No Author

Roll not tears on my death

There should be a reservoir to roll

What is the loss to anyone in the damage

There should be a broken heart to know and understand the value of toll



Short is the life, not it is my destination

Setting out from here I ought to have risen

The distance land where there is no pain

For I am laden with heavy burden in the world where there's existence proclaimed



I have to be an apple of eyes on the lap where eternally I rest

For why proud I feel the image of dust

The dust I was made out of and return to the dust

Through trial, tribulation, temptation, and test



Don't know what I hoping here

In this illusionary and confusing world

Nothing I wanna take from here

For I cometh naked and goeth naked

Emptiness could only fill with preciousness there



Life passed by in illusion of thine and mine

Neither mine nor thine has given the pleasure

Needless here to have a stage to perform

For I am preparing to leave this enclosure



Useless it has become, my effort gone in vain

For I am unable to manage eternal foods

That never let me go hungry again

But for what I struggle day in day out

That left me here confused and completely worn out


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