Poem #32
The old generation.
Then their creation.
Becomes our parents.
We are the new merits.
Bonding with the first generation.
Has become a new frustration.
Realising that it can't be obtained.
Thus more anger is made.
Anger becomes sadness.
Sadness becomes confusion.
Confusion becomes madness
Madness becomes delusion.
-More to come...
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