In this world, who's who to judge. We're all the same balls of shit that roll and roll and roll until we find another ball of shit, mix each other together and roll and roll and sometimes roll back cos of the wind; But roll nevertheless. And roll, rolling, rolled.
Then someone steps on us,we stick to his or her foot, and we get carried, no rolling anylonger.
Just flying around, kinda bouncing and it hurts when we hit the floor, but its good to be at the top again
And we fall, and we rise
fall
rise
no more rolling
rolling was fun
we miss rolling
we do
no worries back then
just.....roll
what happens next this fall and rise thingy?
when does it stop?
will it ever?
possible to dream of?
may be
may be maybe
or...maybe not
but when we are risen we look down at the ones that still roll and we laugh at them
but when we fall, we envey them.
we do
but, even at the top, are we still not a big ball of poo?
A little flatted, kinda smashed and decomposed
but still poop ...nevertheless
terça-feira, 21 de abril de 2009
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