Nostalgia is the common man's ultimate luxury. No matter how little you love or live, in the end you will always keep your memories. And when the paper hits every doorstep with the facet of death under column B, that thick paragraph under your picture is all your labors will ever call amount.
Laughter is the common man's ultimate weapon. With so much diversity in the world, there is only one thing universally treasured: happiness. Even the sulking man finds happiness draped in a dark cloak. What is love but the ultimate happiness?
War is the common man's ultimate invention. It is a theory that can be reused and recycled with almost any situation one can fathom. One could put on a dozen different uniforms and still kill the same man.
Knowledge is the common man's ultimate catalyst. With knowing comes growing. A book confines a mind, if only to expand it. Her silky frame is binded with the strings of restraint, her slender pages a marvel to grip and have your way with.
Poetry by weirdzarun
Read 575 times
Written on 2009-07-17 at 18:57
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