Does my exsistance matter?
Do I impact lives?
Or am I just a heap of litter,
That’s only used to throw.
My heart is continually empty,
As I give more than I take.
And in the end any love I recieved,
Was always just fake.
Now all that’s left,
Is a sordid disfigured face,
All the sleep that I’ve lost,
Left me behind, slow paced.
I couldn’t handle this any longer,
So I stood up and said,
“If I let this prolong,
I’d end up sad, lonely whilst dead.”
I could feel my heart harden,
With each sob that followed.
Forming a shield; less vulnerable,
And a mind less burdened.
-Rabad