In Living Hell


I wonder what it is like to live in hell. To be in a world of dispare without a single moment of joy, only long extensive periods of sorrow. Maybe I should ask someone, I bet if I looked hard enough I could find it out. Maybe I should ask the girl that always wears sunglasses to hide her insecurities or I can ask the husband that is clean cut and neat as a pin, but has to sell his self to lonely and confused men to keep food on the table. What about the woman that continuously wakes up from the nightmares she has about her baby girl finally dying from a drug overdose? No, wait, I got it! What about the little boy that feels that waking up the next morning or taking another breath is no longer a gift from God but a welcome home party from the devil. Yes that's it, I knew if I look hard enough I could see past people's fasods and skin and into the depths of people's souls, into the souls of people that are in living hell.


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