Not The Meaning Of Life

Pay a cybercafe and say you’ll play
Died in Counter-Strike? Do you take a hike?
Or wait and stay till the fray is at bay
And spike the tike in glee revengeful psyche?
Does gravity simply make you happy?
Does school pressure push you to that measure?
I vie to rectify, detonate high
Pleasure life’s treasure so I’m a dasher
Do you run away, escape with a gun?
Shoot your foot and I wouldn’t give a hoot
In foes I’d want slugs spun, drilled through till done
Conclude a dispute, don’t go down the chute
If you’d commit the theft of your own breath
Tell me what is the deft depth in self death?

5 thoughts on “Not The Meaning Of Life

  1. Pingback: The Waiting Room | Glaring Notebook

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