one will cry,
when it’s the agony,
but how one can accept
not drinking the symphony,
just inside
it pains,
exciting the delicate veins
attached superficially
but initially
sucking the energy out of you,
oh all those ATPs are lost,
at what cost there are
stupid debates
I am the sharp gunner
left with no bullets.
now in the memories
I surf
how can you catch
the smurf
you can’t catch
the smurf
the smurf, gives up.


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