The Grim Reaper isn't grim at all; he's a life-saver. He isn't grim because he isn't anything. . . . he is nothing. And nothing is a hell of a lot better than anything. So long, boys.
Jack KerouacStichwörter: autobiography beat memoir prose short-stories prose-poetry jack-kerouac atop-an-underwood
And you might try to hide or protect yourself, or compare the different states of love,
but you must not grow up, must not act wise
when it comes to love.
You must stay foolish and fall
for every heart will beat in different ways together with yours and love is not meant to be compared, only enjoyed, and suffered, and remembered.
Stichwörter: growing-up love poetry youth suffer memory prose prose-poetry young heart-break charlotte-eriksson the-glass-child open-up
So you will meet many ’someones’ who will give a new definition to your name.
And you can not build walls, must not close the door and please don’t hide,
because if you ask me about hurt
and love
I will say love. Love because the hurt will come and go no matter what, but only love makes it worth while. Only love can cure it.
Don’t be scared. Go. Love.
Stichwörter: love youth free hurt prose prose-poetry broken-hearted move-on let-go heart-break charlotte-eriksson the-glass-child
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