Social interaction is divided into many shells.
None of this is said to be permanent...

The sickness is an evil agent.
It grabs you despite your wealth...

Writing takes its shape.
Becoming lines that rhyme...

Amidst the dark, lonely night.
After those terrible, worrisome years...

Eventually time consumes us all.
The last of a dying breed...

The color bleeds through and then it smears.
This message is illegible and it cannot be read...

The hands of the clock move in a smooth...
Ticking away the seconds from my climatic day...

Anyone with the brain of a fool can be a jester.
It takes more than that to be a man...

Take the pain away from my mind and body.
And let me rest...

Falling head first.
Distinguishing the flames...

The unearthing of an omen.
Brings forth a catastrophe...

Creating more life.
Destroying it, abortion isn’t right...