Follow Your Passion: A Seamless Tumblr Journey
I wrote a poem
And you thought it was for you.
I wrote an eulogy
And you thought it was
For my funeral.
To be with someone
Who thinks of nothing
But the ending
When you both are still here
Is to say there already exist
Thousands of ends in their mind.
I just wish he has also imagined
One mellow future where
We're both here and we're both okay,
No one buries us and no one burns us.