Life shall not change
You will have to manage
It is question of survival
That needs constant revival
For the want of arrival
Either spring or autumn
What mars real happiness?
When we make desperate chase
It is either compulsion
Or borne out of frustration
We need to know one thing
We have to do something
To stand firmly on ground
And make it look so sound
Bear in mind
That life is kind
But we need to contend with
With tongue closed behind teeth

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