We are only here to die.
All the blood sweat and tears you put into running your first marathon
That award winning book you wrote that captured the heart of millions of children
All the money that you won from winning the lottery...
Means nothing.
It all means nothing.
All of this...

Means nothing.

We are only here to die.
But it's the preparation that decides
What will happen after life.
The choices that you make in life will decide your fate after life

Which is death.

Like a spider on *******
I weave dysfunction
in   a      haphazard    way
My web has huge              gaping                         holes
It continues to u
                         n
                      r
                         a
                      v
                        e
                      l
                       
Stops short of beautiful
I begin one segment
then d
         r
         o
         p it to start piecing together another
My web lacks intricate details
that would make it magnificant to others
My web cannot function naturally
the way instinct intended
The holes in my web
cause opportunities to fly right by and through
leaving me hungry, confused and reliant on you
This web is a silky mess
So I'll just leave it be
to end up
on someone's eyelash
as they acquiesce.
Like a spider on *******
I         weave    dysfunction
        in  a     hap-haz-ard      
                                                                ­    way.

Corners.
Corners.
Everywhere I look there are corners.

Windows,  no windows.
No doors.
No brightness, no light.
No escape in sight.

Cornered, I feel cornered.
They're pointing fingers.
They are. Who are they?
Who are they to tell me,
To sit between corners.

Corners, I feel cornered.
They are trying to erase every memory,
Making me lose track.

Corners, around the cornered.
When you feel cornered,
Look carefully,
There might be a crack.