DISCONTENT
When I was young a scamp a kid,Somewhere down the line.
I must have hoped my life,
Would turn out better than it did.
All I've ever done is existed,
On a world that's spawned me.
My eyes are closed yet open,
For all I see is nothingness, Misery.
To many wars, Conflicts of my mind,
Individuals don't matter anymore.
Just cannon fodder,
For when we go to war.
Here I am on a speck of dust,
Arbitrarily floating aimlessly feeling vexed.
Through the voids of space,
Wondering what will happen next.
In a reality that I haven't made,
Forced to endure it, Come what may.
Maybe old age has made me soft;
Won't somebody please listen to me,
Stop the world I want to get off.
Poetry by Alan J Ripley
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Written on 2024-05-10 at 12:24
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