Everything has a price in life
and we prioritize the worthless
before whats truly worthwhile
so love erodes and crumbles
and demons take to the skies
whats more important; a question
loving yourself or loving others?
as we move objects like lost coins
hard to answer; maybe, maybe not
aged books tell us one thing
but the music tells us another
in between the linen and lovers
lie such deceptive fighters
bickering about what should be
yearning the rubbish isn't life
gathering the scraps helps no one
so we need to prioritize for real
measuring hearts and heads to size
reasons don't change bitter seasons
new suns don't rise with the tide
but what we do know to be true is
a hand being held is better suited
or is it really? what says winter?
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