Life Of Lies

When we were born, we were pure.
Now we live lies, that we decide.
When we grow old, we die swift.
Now we can say, we lived life.

Years gone pass, when they reminisce.
They can know, what pride is.
What life is, what they are.
They can too, live that lie.

When they pasted, our way of life.
They can too, change their past.
Last of breath, last of hopes.
Last of life, last of lies.

by Sunny Gao

Comments (9)

everything leaves a footprint, whether it's physical or spiritual it does not matter.
awesome poetry..........
One word encapsulates the feeling within this lovely poem - BEAUTIFUL
finally I find a love poem I can commit to memory
PBS writes like no other. This poem is testament to that fact. Brilliant.
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