Time The Indifferent

John Edward Smith Jr.

 I can't cry anymore.
               I sometimes I wish I could,
or ascend from this black pit.
   I would if I could.
             no one want's to come here.
       no one should be here.
no one survives here.

time the enemy of me and mine.
  I despise being here.
     nothing is pure here.
   how I miss thing dear,
  and innocence
and softer fear,
   pervaded upon us so slightly
        and entering our school nights lightly.

time the element
               cuts me wide
  every day as I wake
  as of late
           but I think of  fate
and this crippling hate.
   I'm so cold.
           I'll never get warm
or find shelter
     from my blood storm
  or this sadness
   or the depths of this madness.
     still I must admit
           I've faint traces of gladness
                        for this crater
                     I knew would show up
          the ending
I knew would catch up.



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