Love and pain
Loss and gain.
All just part of the
Unending game.
I guess if we were
To stop and believe
In something more
A smile would host permanent
On every frowning canvas.
Bleeding hearts are stabbed
We lovers are one and the same.
Who would care to hold a frail body, broken and bruised?
Why would we stop and think about those around us?
Loving, hating, all part of the unending game.
The unending game that we just so happen to call….Life.
(I wrote this please give credit if you want to use it elsewhere)

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