perfect world


Perfection doesn't always last.
We may wish it did,
but that's not how life works.
It's like a wick burning outside.
So luminescent,
so pure.
As life goes on,
the winds pick up,
unexpected changes occur.
Might go out,
might not.
Just Depends how strong it is.

dogs tale


Chew on old shoe,
Dream of sheep,

Author's Notes/Comments: 

ghost writing a poem for my dog...

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Nothing, no more: the perfect utopia

No more happiness, no sadness
No more anger, no joy
No heaven, no hell
One has to balance out the other, or else there's ciaos
So if there's neither of the two, nothing, will this create the perfect utopia?
No love, no hate
No more killing, no more healing
You and I are not so different, yet complete opposites
No more pleasure, no pain
Not uplifted, not ill
Not weakened, not strengthened
Nothing, no more: the perfect utopia

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