I am very nearly thirty now,
I have been sat in this cold, damp place for hours
Thinking about what could have been, had i not touched the powder
A year since my wife succumbed to the lull of death,
Oh how i wish i could join
What i would do to reverse my past,
my children an i together at last
Theres nothing left but this bitter shell of a man
My life encompassed by my selfishness
Waiting, wishing, wondering about what will be
How cruel a life full of misery
My heart seldom beats much anymore,
for what is the point in life when you have nothing to live for?
This works very well. It's depressing but a clear voice emerges.
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