Sometimes I wonder,
Is it a mistake to be born?
To face the harsh realities
To suffer under tyranny
To feel unwanted by all
Why bother living, the point of it all?

Does anyone really matter?
If all we do is die after a while
Chained to the idiosyncratic mediocrity
Unwittingly bestowed upon us all
We cease and decease like effervescence
Do we even have meaning?

Will everything be the same in death?
Or will our consciousness cease?
I wonder if someone succumbs to it,
Will they really leave anything behind?
Will people notice their absence?
I wonder.

I wonder.  
I wonder... if I die

Will I really die at all?
I'm ready.
I hope they are too.