When we're alive our sanity is ruled by the judgmental conscience
When we're alive we live to free the obligation of meeting the expectations of others
When we're alive we live as a sheep, scared to stray from the herd for even a moment
When we're alive we live as a moth diving into our graves to the eternal flame we call love
It is sometimes easier to play dead than to stay alive...
Not needing to live with the weary of love and hatred, gaining and losing, loneliness and despair, and to enjoy the relief from all the endless nights embraced with tormenting dreams
Playing dead doesn't mean the end, but it is a beginning to a new end. So perhaps each and every of us need moments in our lives to play dead in order to resurrect and to start things afresh
But in reality, how many of us are willing and able to surrender our memories and to play dead for even a spilt flash?
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Comments about this poem (Play Dead by Eric Tang )
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