Life is a Strip of Moebius'
winded, long, without end.
What some hate, nay, abuse
another will die to defend.
Of colours, races profuse,
cold feelings that hearts rend.
What love one finds diverse,
a stranger loved bids: Attend!
Helter-skelter some accuse,
its pace to nowhere, my friend.
And since to stop all refuse,
Who can tell of its last end?
No comments:
Post a Comment
Is this opinion sound or is it invalid? Share your views and the alternative perspective with the author. Please leave your comment here.