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Jan 2020
I feel broken and damaged and weak,
All the while so utterly lost,
Because I have something so close to
my grasp that I smile, and I feel that
genuine happiness,
only to have it
ripped from the grasp I never had.
Alas, what is the point of hope
when it is destined to tear you down?
What is the point of passion,
when a single word can burn it away?
What is the point to live,
when your life is but a math
problem never meant to be solved?
What is the point of it all,
when all I feel is pure fear?
Life can **** sometimes.
Anaïs
Written by
Anaïs  19/F
(19/F)   
68
   ap
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