The End



That's how I feel.

Something is missing.

What is it? DOes anyone know.

I'm always rejected.

Always avioded.

Something has to change.

I'm a dead person in a living world.

Why can't I be like the others?

When will it end?

Will I have to end it myself,

Or will someone else do that for me?

Will anything change?

Or will I have to end it all?

Guide that inspired this poem: 


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