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people care, some of them
it's like finding the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.
people care. some of them.
imagine it. we might not die miserable after all.
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watch the children put grafittie chalk, smiles on the sidewalk
listen to the old men talk, "travel though my head, lets take a walk"
we've got smiley faces on us, they can't hurt us.
the evil-doers see us, and start a fuss
they're not winning anymore. just us. justice.
and the kids on the corner are gangsters, makeing a profit off lemonade.
capitalism at it's best, 25 cents a cup, those kids are getting paid
the bunnies, playing bunny tag
the sun asking the moon "what is swag?"
in your ears, life gives sound
this is existence in all it's awe.
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i kind of stink at "positive" poetry, but i really tried with this one. i also didn't know how to end it
in a better way. i'm used to writing... well, less positive stuff, so this was difficult. :)
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