The end of an era

...And don't forget to breathe
when you lose your lungs to disease,
pleasure comes from
knowing you're safe,
that the things you cherish exist.

The fact that they once did
-but do no more-
does pain the soul to cherish:
The love of lost objects.

Can your mind
exist without your body?

Why can't we live
when we break free from "things?"

Is there no greater achievement
than to live in loss and strive?

Here again
doused in refrain
acknowledging those in pain,
covered in skin
their truth is within,
to outwardly say,
"Nothing is vain."

Alas, one remark,
for 'twere, it could be,
some doth think as big as the sea.
That pain is strife and certain misery -
but not if it's free to see clearly.

Way of Life/You'll Find an Answer

Dangerous, that's how I want to live
off the edge of a ledge I will live
can you some recognition give,
or else my life will be in vain.

Reclusive, definitely the way to go.
Unaware of others', playful, dancing, disco,
but what of life shall I forgo,
when all of life belongs to me.

Wealthy, is really what I should be,
never would one have a problem with me.
Since money's no object, I won't need TV
I would have women, unsatisfied, and free.

Angry, might seem right,
everyone's view become trite.
Logic repelled by might of the fight,
I would not be easy to get along with.

Open, appears a possibility
astute observations would clarify me.
Yet, would anyone care to see,
Maybe they'd take advantage.

Speaking of which, Paranoid should do the trick,
live life in doubt, where I walk no ground about,
I think I'll just sit here and pout.
Because nobody cares much 'bout me.