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Reflecting on existance
This life.
What is this life
What are the odds
Of me being born
How fickle it is
That one freak accident.
And the cycle of existence
Starts again
Once more.
A year before my birth
I had no breathe,
I had no heart
No eyes to see this earth
And someday I’ll be just as gone.
As though I never came at all.
Every moment is just a moment.
I laugh at the irony
Of it all.
