Poem -

Slowly

The countdown has begun
Even before the timer has wrung
I am done

Filled with nothing sorrow
I don’t want to live till tomorrow
I want to go now

I am bucklying under the pressure
Nothing is done for leisure
Nothing I can do to measure

I am dying a slow death 
A pain no one seems to get
It’s time for my untimely demise to be met
 

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Comments

author
A Lonely Journey

Michelle, 
You write so sad, but sad is often beautiful. 
Love your writing. 

Matthew. 

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