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Literature Text
Like an old cassette,
worn out and dusty,
it doesn't shine anymore,
doesn't play cause it's rusty,
nothing compared to what it was before.
Are we really nothing more?
Only marionettes in a puppet show,
It's a circle without an end,
Like sea that never stops kissing the shore.
Maybe it's something we just can't withstand.
But tell me, are we truly, nothing more?
Just another shade,
in the vast variety of the many colours,
And even that may soon fade.
Yet, we still don't care about others.
And, no one wonders what's it all for?
No one truly even bothers.
And no one wonders, if they're nothing more.
No one wonders if they're nothing.
worn out and dusty,
it doesn't shine anymore,
doesn't play cause it's rusty,
nothing compared to what it was before.
Are we really nothing more?
Only marionettes in a puppet show,
It's a circle without an end,
Like sea that never stops kissing the shore.
Maybe it's something we just can't withstand.
But tell me, are we truly, nothing more?
Just another shade,
in the vast variety of the many colours,
And even that may soon fade.
Yet, we still don't care about others.
And, no one wonders what's it all for?
No one truly even bothers.
And no one wonders, if they're nothing more.
No one wonders if they're nothing.
Comments19
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Very well structured and written with splendid grammar. Very deep piece indeed. Not many people take the time to actually think about life and themselves and the little redundancies. Plus I think you got a good head on your shoulders 