Unnecessary
Is there some rule out there
that a broken heart has to last;
that it must drag you back to memory's lair
and remind you of what's come and passed?
Is there some cosmic order
that this must be the case;
that once you cross pain's border,
memories never lose the race?
Is there some rule out there
that good men, good people, have to fall;
that God has to laugh in the face of 'fair'
and shove us into cruel remembrance's thrall?
Is there a reason for all of this,
for the sadness, the tears, all the waste and shame;
or has the world just been wrought amiss -
all we thought real destined to be put to the flame?
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