A poem describing one person's choice to give up on the pain of life. |
She walked down the powdered hallway to the shadowed door, hit the candy coated steps leading west, wanting reality less and fantasy more, because life had lost its zest. Her feet hit the plastic concrete, her mind wanders through a timeless place, where the killers heal and the honest men cheat, the clock in the hall stands with no face. All is nothing, the echo repeats- Nothing is real Turning the crooked corner to a path leading nowhere, but intending to follow as far is it takes her, people who have to listen can't- the rest just don't care, and still aren't prepared for what occurs. Lying in the darkness of a silk coated room, lost in thoughts that bury you alive, you desperately try to avoid your doom, but have lost the will to thrive. All is nothing, the echo repeats- Nothing is Real You close your eyes to see the light, you pray the hurt won't reach you, even though you know it might, you pray the pain won't touch you, Silently, it creeps in and snuffs out the candle of life, motionless, you lay there accepting- you can face no more strife. All is nothing, the echo repeats- Nothing is real....not even the pain you feel. |