Angst Poem by Marikadianna Zuniga

I want to know what it's like to be DEAD.
I want to feel the life being sucked from me.
I constantly feel the need to be cradled by a beautiful Rose wood casket.
Why am I here?
Why do I exist?
Why do I sometimes have the thoughts I do?
When do the poor swap places with the rich?
When does my qualifications qualify me for a job that I am qualified to do?
When am I going to stop feeling these feelings of ANGST?
Where will my help come from?
Where do people get off telling me it's going to be OK?
Where the hell are U when I need you?
Having and then not having...
A...N...G...S...T