No More Lines

No More Lines

I’m tired of lines, so straight and plain
Nothing is out of place, there is no strain
It’s all the same, from start to end
There is no bend.

Once, life was of such dullness.
It begins in primness
And ends just as it starts.
It was dull enough to bore most hearts.

But then I realized that, in my straight march,
There is a lack of the excitement caused by an arch
For if you walk without any curve in the road,
You’d find you’ve learned nothing when you reach your abode.

Life is not made of lines, so straight and plain
It also has curves that may cause some stain
But only when you’ve learned to see the glory of strife
Will you have then lived your life.