Question

Meaningless sequences, hover in reality
a single day is but a year?
in stark confusion I insist.
Wrapped around a designer watch, that ticks to only 
rich men's time.
How narrow is the width of a human cornered in poverty.
No delight in my body nor soul.
As my purposeless existence brings in questions that gleam.
To a furrowed brow I hand off my quest
To survive another day until
Nothingness.
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