Survival

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  • Sadness

    Survival





    Nothing is as it should be



    Nothing is as it must be



    I dig my nails into the seat



    Thinking what ever am I going to do?



    How did I get here?



    How did I let it happen…



    Suddenly I woke up….



    And everything seemed to be going wrong



    I hate this feeling



    This feeling of hopelessness



    Wondering



    How will I ever survive?



    I want to believe



    Truly believe



    That everything is going to be alright



    Unfortunately I can’t honestly say that’s how I feel

    Day and night

    I am looking for the light

    The light to shine through

    Waiting to open my eyes

    Once again

    Breathe again

    live again

    Believe again

    I will survive.

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    Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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