We of All

A parody of the comical ways of laughing, is just the cry of nerves. We act in such haste as there is so much time to waste, we don’t feel pain because we have to, but because we want to, we are lost, we want to be found, but we are rounding the turn, on the merry go round, we find all but tears, in our palms that hold on, and we grasp those last breaths of life, as we say our last good byes