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Play Toys

Life is mean,
Life is cruel,
But there’re times,
When life is actually okay,
When those times are near,
I get a sense of peace.
But I’ve forgotten what peacefulness feels like,
For I have not been peaceful in a while.
Life is not okay,
When you find yourself crying on the floor,
In your best friends arms,
For hours on in.
But that’s because I haven’t treated life right.
I’ve been bad,
Dishonest,
And disloyal.
So life finds its own ways to punish me,
But what if I’m good?
Do I get rewarded?
No.
Life loves to see us suffer.
We are mere play toys in life’s hands.
We do not choose to be here,
Many of us would rather be somewhere else,
But life has its own little way,
Of holding us here,
And making us play.
So I’ll play along,
In life’s little game of living,
And I’ll suffer,
For life’s pleasure.
But as I’m life’s play toy,
I’ll be ready,
When life throws me away,
Knowing that life,
Is not all fire and no ice.
Life knows when we’ve had enough,
And need to leave.
But he makes sure we have good reason,
But until then,
We are nothing,
If anything,
But life’s play toys.





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