Existence

Troubled times are around the bend
Wishing that they would end
Unless you see a shooting star
The end will be much too far

Misery, melancholy, envelop you

These feelings are far from new
Much like the flightless bird
You are not seen, nor are you heard

You have many words you wish to speak
Your tongue as dry as an empty creek

No one listens to you anyways
It is just one of those days

Your existence is a sad one indeed
No one sees the blood you bleed
You know that no one even cares
Stories told by malicious stares

Why do you even bother to hope
Soon you will not even cope
Without even a single friend
You will meet an untimely end

You ling on to your little strand
Watching it shrink on the palm of you hand
You wish that it would just grow
For you it will never be so.