I look in the mirror and see a void
An outcast, doomed to die alone
I have no hope of love’s sweet comfort
I have a house, but not a home

I yearn to feel the hand of friendship
On arm or shoulder, or to touch my face
But I know that my next true comfort
Will be to welcome death’s embrace

No sons or daughters to mourn my passing
No family that gives a ****
I see no point, I have no future
To death’s cold hand I would submit

My death would do the world a favour
One less useless waste of space
But sadly I believe in karma
So must let the reaper set the pace

I plod along this pointless path
Hopes and dreams, lost in the mist
Eking out my days in sorrow
While awaiting life’s final farewell kiss