We need distractions aplenty,
we need them not as a cure for
our chronic unhappiness,
but to distract us from our own
impending deaths
The clock ticks ever so imperceptibly
Towards unwelcome death
We need alibis aplenty
Some take to drugs to hurry the date
with the grim reaper,
some take to women, a few whom they
ever learn to love,
And some live without the will to kill themselves,
And, like pendulums, swing back and forth
between drugs
and loose women,
seeking love from hopeless places
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