Donovan Magill


Strike!

(I)
It's three am, It should be four.
Standing on my dark street illuminated by nothing but
a street light in the fog.
Nothing is as it seems.
(II)
The only constants that remain are that i am who i am.
Nothing else. Nothing more. One tiny speck in the world squandering my existance.
An empty stomach, a heavy heart, and a full mind corrupted by the thoughts of what could have been.

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