Just a Pessimist
This life is not real
No one is. Nothing is.
We are all phonies
And if we weren’t
We’d truly love
There would be no adultery
It would not exist
It couldn’t exist
But the urge does exist
Therefore love does not
So is there any point…
In love?
We are all just phonies
And a waste
We live just to die
We don’t even know where we came from
But we end up going to that same place
Again, and maybe again?
Who knows.
Who cares.
We will never know
And whoever made up this thing
Called life, really wanted to mess with us
But it is what it is
And we should make the best of it
But you know me; I’m just a pessimist