we are all lost in life
grey
lukewarm
dusty
and when we see someone
bright
burning
red
we
our jealousy
the intensity
at times we cannot know
if it is hatred or jealousy
or love or craving
perhaps self-loathing
that
we cannot
burn as bright
die as fast
we walk the perimeters of life
we
toe the line
to live and die
or to live and die?
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