Just sometimes
Sometimes I wonder,What is life really for.
I don't feel I'd miss it,
It's not a thing I crave for.
Don't know why I feel that way,
But I always do life is different.
For me and I don't wish for more,
Expecially with nightmare
neighbours next-door.
What the hell do people talk about.
At 3am there brains have gone
Walkabout,
But there mouths keep shouting,
With the dribble they keep spouting.
Sometimes I wonder what to do,
I'm up at 8.30 so I'm totally screwed.
Poetry by Alan J Ripley
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Written on 2024-08-18 at 04:09
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