Have you ever just sat down,
And wondered why you're here?
Why you're living?
Now, imagine being me...
Imagine having that question go through your head,
Every single morning,
And every single night,
Of every single day.
It's frustrating...
Because you never really find an answer.
And the thought becomes unbearable.
It's terrifying,
That feeling of not having a purpose,
Not being important to anyone,
Having absolutely no reason,
To even be alive...
So instead you'd just rather die.
-
Author:
Mads (
Offline) - Published: December 21st, 2016 08:46
- Comment from author about the poem: I wrote this MONTHS ago and I'm still proud of it.
- Category: Short story
- Views: 60
Offline)
Comments2
Great write
I'd be proud of it too, but I hope you are not living it. Hugs.
Thanks and I'm not living it anymore actually, just every once in a while.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.