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Spite for Life

January 29, 2017

lost and unsure, weary with life.

No hope of cure, no hope of light,

no end in sight to this dour plight.

It all seems surreal, like an endless dream,

no sensual feel, no chance to wake up and scream.

I wait for something to cut me sufficiently deep

to bring me out of this monotonous sleep.

nothing so far emerges to make me care

for all this world I have little to spare.

It will one day finally extinguish my light,

till then, I shrug my shoulders out of spite.

 

 

 

 

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One Comment
  1. jon I’m sending mental hugs.

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