Beyond Life's Maximums

Some people sometimes, they're like wandering kayaks- Adrift with; open-heart surgery still hacking them apart. They're heading always downstream into the rapids. Some people grow up; grow old, gathering lilacs Every moment is tinged with a bitter, afterthought. He loves me, he loves me not He loves me, he loves me not As though their heart was a foreign entity that inhabits. As though their souls were caught in some wire traps Some people feel they're not really real but a counterpart: So, they live their whole lives beyond life's maximums.