Here is another short poem of sorts that I stumbled across. Sorry for all the poetry here, I just happened to find a bunch of stuff last night and felt like sharing it here for all of you to see.  This one is short and may have been unfinished, but what little there is I liked.

Here is the poem:



What do you profit
if you gain the whole world
but suffer the loss of your soul?

Is it really freedom
having all the fame and fortune
when by a puppet’s string you’re controlled?

Cut the strings
smell the roses
time is a resource
there is never enough of…

I guess looking at it now it is more of a collection of random thoughts, highly unfinished. But still I enjoy it, although while I was posting it here I believe I remember when I wrote this and the reasons behind it. Those will remain locked away in my head, however!


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