سه‌شنبه، اسفند ۲۲، ۱۳۸۵

Death

I want to die under a clear blue sky.
From a bullet wound,
A bullet shot out of some body's gun,
Someone who hated me,
Because of something good I did.

I want to go to my grave,
knowing I never lied for my good
never broke a promise that I gave.
Never saw something bad that I didn't stand against.
Never saw something good that I didn't pursued.

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Read my notes here, you'll know all you need to know.