The life of a bag of chips?A potatoe is picked and cut and cooked and you have a chip. Multiplied by many and you have enough to fill a bag Pump in some air to cushion the shaking and to keep the chips from breaking You enter a store and look on the shelf and see the bag of chips and you see yourself So you grab the bag and hold it close in anticipation of taking it home You crunch and bite and chew and swallow and tie up the bag to eat it tomorrow But the rubber band is loose and air gets in and the chips they slowly soften and the next day when you look in The bag is now a coffiThe life of a bag of chips?
SUICIDE NOTE?once you read this, i already may be dead chair tipped, rope round the neck still fresh, but blue in the face can you feel this pain?SUICIDE NOTE?
another story is the tale of the gun one kid, stressed out, finding his dad's handgun looked at it, thought of his life thinking again, nothing went right finger feeling the trigger sweaty palms gripping it harder then twisted controls his mind closing his eyes, bang took away the life destination hell heaven, dark or white
or maybe i may be lying on the floor cut wrists, blood rushin up like sea to the shore
What if?Just been thinking. . .What if?
What if time was reversed
Would you take back what you did to prevent the worst What if you didn't say the things you said Would the relationship be the same or change instead What if you were poor and had no food to eat Would you starve to death or face the heat What if you had lost and had not won Would you still be recognized or be completley done What if the person you loved was still alive Would you tell them that you loved them before they died What if you weren't so alone Would you be a different person or still unknown What if
Majestic DeathIn the depth of every emotion, There lies the shallowness of the truth We must oppress what can’t be seen… But why is it that religion requires ...the act of sacrificing… We have not yet felt p a i nMajestic Death
Life, what may be seen as beautiful, …is actually the beast of the beauty Where darkness outshines the day, We are the first attendants to arrive at the sun’s funeral. Beads of what seems to be, blood, plunges atop the white coffin. In the interior, hope silently sleeps… Doves struggling, they’re drowning, Into the intensity of these tormented pools The qui
