Isn't that how life is?
Death's just a form of not being around,
One more of those vices,
Like needing to be where the action is,
Because it's in your bones,
Like a cancer, you can't get rid of it,
It lives just like anything else that's known,
Like your long-lost friends in other countries,
Existing. not with you,
If you spent your life trying to find them,
You have stopped living, too,
Wait is that true?
My mind's hugged by the flu,
Which is a living being in itself,
Attempting to communicate with you.