Divisions of a whole

Drunken Poetry Attempt 4 (I do believe)


The silence of a beating heart

So comfortable in its pace,

That it hardly stops to think

Of its little roll in the theatre of life.


A single tear in the spectrum of emotion,

So preoccupied with its misery,

That it hardly stops to think

Of its little roll in the theatre of life.


One tiny little human,

So infatuated with staying alive,

That they hardly stop to think

Oftheir little roll in the theatre of life.


One tiny little human,

So infatuated with staying alive,

That they hardly stop to try

To live their life.