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ghost
Poems
Feb 2021
existence of sorrow
My existence has no merit.
I have nothing left but bones.
It’s nearing impossible to bear it.
No food, just sticks and stones.
My guitar is a dying instrument.
No goals left to achieve.
The world is nothing but torment.
My life is one to grieve.
Life is but a dream.
All the memories are just a blur.
Clothes are tearing at the seam.
My speech is just a slur.
I hear footsteps coming near.
I don’t want them to know I’m here.
Written by
ghost
16/F/im lost
(16/F/im lost)
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erica lynn
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