Life is a beautiful isolated island
With crystal waters and powdered sand,
With bounteous gardens and succulent fruit,
All dressed up in its finest suit,
With good fortune running through the hills,
Care-free and smiling through the daffodils.
 
And life is an envious, isolated island,
A casualty at birth while dealt a bad hand,
While reaching out to others in vain,
Friendship is a link in a fragile chain.
For them that have, are friends for the day,
Until good fortune leaves, a price to pay.
Stripped of their riches, they are left alone.
Friendship is only temporary, a garden unsown.
 
So life is the hand that delivers fate
To those who have and
Those who have not.
To those who have,
Friendship breeds suspicion,
And life is not so loving
And care-free as it seems.
So C’est La Vie to all be known.

Those who have: Beware of those who have not.

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