My Kind of Morbid


What must life be consist of?
& why must one socialize with one another for?

Should I proceed into making an effort furthermore?
Tell me why I must do these things, is it to understand life a little more?
Anxiety so strong, it chains me down 'till I cannot speak no more

(Oh the things I wish I could say)

The humiliating presence waiting to be saved
A life full of questions, why must this be made?
No matter how hard I try I cannot express myself to be refrained

(Oh the things I wish I could say)

The bitter feeling of not being suitable enough, has come to its demise
A healthy social life is my only premise
Surviving this piece of hell we call "life" is my only compromise

(Oh the things I wish I could say)

Silence is my voice
Or could life have been challenging me with a little remorse?
The unwanted feeling is what I've only obtained
Maybe I could just have taken this too appalling or am I just too restrained?
Like John Baptist ready to be condemned
For nothing I've done to deserve this but in reality it is something to comprehend

Guide that inspired this poem: 


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