Poem By Hannah Banana

What is living?
A thing to do.
What is life?
Me and you.
What are years?
Things to lend.
What is death?
A peaceful end.

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My Lovely

My lovely.
Does it hurt?
Born to the world,
Die an old man.


Born in red
Die in blue
Live in yellow
Sleep in green


We kill for the silence,
I don't understand.
Why give metal to their voice
To steal away their quiet

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One to love
One to hate
To cry
To die


All the rowboats
In the oil paintings