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1 entry this month

 

poem

21:10 Dec 13 2005
Times Read: 559


whats the point to living?

there is no point.

what were we meant for?

nothing...

so why do we exist?





I am full of emptiness...

nothing else

not able to feel pain

not able to love

i have no reason for living

owning nothing....

feeling nothing....

being soffocated by the emptiness

why fight the inevetable



here i sit awaiting my time

my time to die

friendless and empty

alone and invisible


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