The world is closing in.
But, it doesn't even realize,
The kind of straits I'm in.
Rocks hurt, too, you know.
But nothing like your own words,
Cutting into the flesh of your soul,
Laying it bare with no chance of healing.
Does anything matter? Do I?
Is there a reason for suffering,
Or is it all a cosmic joke?
Making us wonder, giving us hope.
Only to snatch it back with one bold stroke.
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