To Live?

Thu, 11/12/2015 - 02:33 -- jweber

If the point of life is to live throughout,

Why do I feel dead inside all the time?

I feel as I'm in an eternal drought

To off myself would be a weary climb.


What time in life does life begin?

Well if you ask me, it still hasn't yet;

Your words cut through what I thought was thick skin.

So I'll spend the night shedding tears-- and sweat


Sitting in my room wishing for shelter.

To those who say it only gets better,

I will offer you some of my liqueur

Together we can forget the bitter.


With all of this said, I am now in trouble;

For I must start dealing with my rubble.

This poem is about: 


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