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Quortni Moore Apr 2023
The point…
What is it you might ask? Idk and
that there really is the problem we aim to solve.
But no one knows what the true point of it all is.


Why are we here?
Why do we really feel the desire to fulfill something that we may never really know or understand?
Still I wonder, what happens when “it’s” fulfilled?
Do they clap, throw roses, give you cookie, or just wait around for the next existential crisis to arise?
When we reach what we have been aiming for all this time; that fulfillment that’s individualized to each and every one of us, the end however it’s always the same…
we die.
So what was really the point then?
Pinkmoon May 2021
Cells burst
Telomeres shrink,
Hurtling towards destruction
He called me a misanthrope.
Know thyself, I said.
My life is chaos;
Pink moons and hurricanes
We all fall down
Dead woman walking
Searching for meaning, searching for peace, high functioning depression, lovers lost.
Francie Lynch Aug 2015
These years are speeding darkly
Since the epiphany. You don't get
A lot of those.
Last night
On the beach I laid back to watch
The shooting stars; some say
The heavenly stars. The Perseids
Burned indiscriminately,
I counted two.

I was starstruck watching
The four satelites,
In a pre-determined orbital,
That would burn as sure as
A ghetto.

Ogling the dark spaces;
Comforted, there's more stars
Out there for some other reason.
And wham. It happened , always unexpected.
It's not because something's not there;
It's because it never was, but for
Two meteors and four satelites.
I saw the light.

— The End —