Why is it truly I come to this place
Why do I go to that nothingness
Dull and boring place
Ive always hated that place
An eternity and on
But every morning that its open
I get up and go
I treat it like, yeah right,
Like theres a purpose to that stupid place
But I keep goin'
Like theres somethan there
I get up almost every morning
Not to be a goody two shoes
I go with a chance of embarrassment
Or the anoying people
But why do I keep going
Why would anyone want to
Mainly why am I still in it at all
Hardly caring anyway
The thing that keeps me there
Keeps probably some of you
Is something never rare
And can always be found waiting around a corner
So this is to them
Thank you,
Friends
March 2006
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
good poem i can relate