Poem 24

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I'm thinking about this world we're living in,

It feels like a thousand years, so where have I been?

I've been dying in a lonely, dark world,

Crying, dying, and into a ball I'm curled. 

Just sitting there blankly in space,

Wondering, "Where's my place?"

It feels like a thousand years, but it's only been a day,

Maybe it's because I don't want anyone in my way.

My biggest dreams they all flew away,

They won't come back and they never stay.

For a thousand years, I've been a dark mess,

I've never been under so much stress.

If I go to sleep it's all going to end,

I don't have much time left to spend. 

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