By; John “ Speedy “ Hartman
Everyday I wake
in a black hole
too dark to see
a bright future
No longer wanting
To pray for help
to beg for help
To except help
The hole seems
to get deeper
and darker
as time goes on
Wish I could
just pull it all
in over me
What to do…..
what to do…..
what to do…..?
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This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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