Justyna Stanisz
Is this the reason for living? (By a pessimist)
There is no way
to find a way out.
There is no day
we know what everything is all about.
Isn’t it all about everyone?
So why do we abstract everything?
Isn’t it all about being alone?
So why is everyone collapsing?
We fill the emptiness
with lack of mind.
Is humanity the same as carelessness?
I guess it’s all the same kind.
Is living the same as mass suicide?
Why can’t we get anything right?
Is this the reason why we live?
Is there any explanation to give?
Is it curiosity
just because of made up mystery?
Or is it covered craziness
that keeps us away from the laziness?
Is it the boredom that makes everything
sound so melodramatic
from the beginning
of our own anaesthetic?
Maybe I’m too pessimistic
and even too depressed
but I can’t hide the blood at my wrist.
And I know I won’t be missed.
Why do all the raindrops brake?
Obviously the medication failed.
Written 2006
Toutes les droites appartiennent à son auteur Il a été publié sur e-Stories.org par la demande de Justyna Stanisz.
Publié sur e-Stories.org sur 16.09.2006.
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