232. A Sick Joke of a Poem

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What is the point?

Tell me what could it be?

What could be the use of life so lone and empty?

I’m tired of trying to lie to myself.

This life of a prison suffocates me!

Hate my body.

I despise all the games.

I’m tired of playing all these filthy games!

I love my family so much it hurts.

The joy I find in them hell quickly claims.

No matter what…

No matter what I do;

They will die, or I, and time will fade what we knew.

No longer will I hold them or see them.

E’er left with bitter-dreams of phantoms I once knew.

It is all wrong!

I have to fix this joke.

What a sick f***in’ joke this is…A sick joke!

How can I enjoy what will not last?

Love deeply this flower….now watch it choke?

K. Aldaya, 09/13/12

Picture:  “Everything Dies” by thefoxandtheraven at Deviant Art; http://thefoxandtheraven.deviantart.com/art/Everything-Dies-334093725?q=sort%3Atime%20%28%28everything%20dies%29%20AND%20%28by%3ATheFoxAndTheRaven%29%29&qo=0

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