Absurdist Poem by Cynthia Pardede
Absurdist
What do people pursue?
Why is everybody running?
Though there is no finish line.
Though the track is circle.
Why are they in such a hurry?
After all, we're all going to die.
And we'll die at the right time.
And the time has been set.
Wednesday, November 19, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: life
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4/23/2024 12:53:33 PM # 1.0.0.1119
