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So immortal we pretend to be
Living life half-heartedly
Buried passion underneath
School, work, TV
And meaningless nothings
That can’t even take up six feet
And while we make up an excuse
For every vanity replacing moments of life we lose
We’re digging our way
To endless graves
In a cemetery we create
To fill with lost, lonely, unloved souls
To match our hearts’ plentiful holes
That could have lived and been loved
If we only knew of
The fatal plague of not full living
Takes others with us
But we have a chance
To take another stance
Be the one who dies
In order to live
In order to sprout
In order to birth new life
From death
Is that not immortal?
Is that not what we want from life?
To know that our lives
Did not just die
But multiplied
In bringing life
To those around us
Even after our time