Terms of mortality

I maybe a tiny little speck
In the whole existence of life
I maybe insignificant to many
Invincible to some
I possibly look like a great punching bag, to someone
My existence repulses somebody
And someone may feel the urge of redemption in my presence
Because most people are convinced that I never age
They say I still look like the kid they met age’s ago
See mine is not an extravaganza of a life

I sometimes toy with the idea of death
I wonder if anybody will even show up at my funeral
I wonder what friends I lost contact with will have to say about me
Will they even miss me?
Will anybody miss me ,even though they don’t miss me now
I am like a speck of dust, unseen with naked eye’s
But under a microscope I am a wonder to be hold
I am the master, the jack that trades smiles for tears

They say no man is an island
So I guess a woman can be one
I am living proof, I am surrounded by ocean’s of my tears
The ocean floor is a home for anger ,resentment and hate
Life has become a chore
I try to swim to shore but I am drowning in my own tears
Yet I have been clowning around for years
I come to terms with my own mortality
I struggle to boast my own morale
My Christian moral’s are becoming undone

I unknowingly but deliberately pawn my need for love and affection
for porn
Pain has become me
In these four walls it has become my best friend
I often wonder if anyone will miss me
But in the end when I die
My friend will die with me
Depending on my fleet
Pain will die forever
Or forever be a part of me.


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