Poetic-Verses
'' It's The Gift Of Strife ''
All that Christmas shopping,
Presents to be found,
Which we all end up swapping,
When no one's around.
Buying too much crap,
Brings on deep regret,
Give yourself a good slap,
You must pay back that debt.
You spend part of your life sleeping,
While some of it awake,
Between the laughing and weeping,
You've no time for a break.
Dreaming while resting,
Can and does take it's toll,
Loving and detesting,
Can't be good for the soul.
Having to keep clean,
Is a bit of a farce,
Trying to keep lean,
While promises are sparse.
We spend our days moaning,
Almost anything goes,
Then there's the groaning,
For what, who knows?
Too much time walking,
Harms the knees,
Then constantly talking,
About the birds and the bees.
While we're out driving,
Someone throws in a spanner,
That's why anger is thriving,
It's to do with our manner.
A world full of bawling,
Because we can't be heard,
After mistakes crawling,
Pretending we cared.
Covering up lies,
Can and does leave you stressed,
When someone dies,
You find it hard to digest.
Existing isn't easy,
It's such a hard life,
In truth it's quite sleazy,
' It's The Gift Of Strife '
Presents to be found,
Which we all end up swapping,
When no one's around.
Buying too much crap,
Brings on deep regret,
Give yourself a good slap,
You must pay back that debt.
You spend part of your life sleeping,
While some of it awake,
Between the laughing and weeping,
You've no time for a break.
Dreaming while resting,
Can and does take it's toll,
Loving and detesting,
Can't be good for the soul.
Having to keep clean,
Is a bit of a farce,
Trying to keep lean,
While promises are sparse.
We spend our days moaning,
Almost anything goes,
Then there's the groaning,
For what, who knows?
Too much time walking,
Harms the knees,
Then constantly talking,
About the birds and the bees.
While we're out driving,
Someone throws in a spanner,
That's why anger is thriving,
It's to do with our manner.
A world full of bawling,
Because we can't be heard,
After mistakes crawling,
Pretending we cared.
Covering up lies,
Can and does leave you stressed,
When someone dies,
You find it hard to digest.
Existing isn't easy,
It's such a hard life,
In truth it's quite sleazy,
' It's The Gift Of Strife '
Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
`` It`s The Gift Of Strife ``
`` It`s The Gift Of Strife ``
