life has no point,
you live then you rot,
sitting in a dark hole, all alone exept for the insects and parasites eating at your corpse,
why do we live there's no point,
criticizim and hate fills our bodys,
no one cares about us,
when we are dead we are soonly forgotten,
there might be moments when love is in our life.....
but its soon forgotten,
we live on with ourselves... living with hate,
why cant we all be the same and and have no debate,
life is already over, life is already dead,
just addmit it and quite,
i write this poem with feelings,
and i write this poem with hate,
towards all those who critic us,
hell and could give a shit!
what does this poem meen to you?
Comments
-
Welcome To Allpoetry
Hello xXEmoKrisXx
A lot of angst here, good venting out poem against all those that think it's ok to criticise everyone except themselves ofcourse.
Keep writing.
Andy - Site Greeter
Adding your comment:
