Frustration
I attempt to feel meaning and wish to be complete
Only to realize that tomorrow will be an empty repeat
Whether I fall of the edge of the world as it turns
Through one of many a misplaced thrill
Or feel the sting of many burns
Which afford me a strangely wonderful chill.
Otherwise, I desperately desire to die
Staring at something or maybe at nothing
Kissing this illusion called life goodbye
And then when I think and am overwhelmed by all this
You know what I do, against my wish?
…I cry and cry
And I really, really don’t fricking know why.
The Second Poem
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