Say What
 
It's a paradox that the axiom is a conundrum.
Incongruent are justice and life.
Cutting both ways, sharp as a knife.
The realization made me sad.
Sickness found the good man and the bad.
Underneath me when I die,
my enemies will lie.
I think, therefore I am.
I am, therefore I think.
Could it just be that I am only thinking I am.

By panther811

© 2015 panther811 (All rights reserved)

 

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This Poem is part of a Challenge: - The JUST FOR THE LOVE OF IT Challenge-read page for rules and info (challenge has been closed)


This Poem is part of a Challenge: - The JUST FOR THE LOVE OF IT Challenge-read page for rules and info (challenge has been closed)


This Poem is part of a Challenge: - The JUST FOR THE LOVE OF IT Challenge-read page for rules and info (challenge has been closed)


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