Life's Objective - Poem by Achim Wollscheid
the world's as shrunken and hopeless a place
as a space in eternal punishment, like hell.
we move like shapeless blobs,
like ghosts twist languidly.
we sit ourselves in misery's seat...
yeh, to drink from empty bottles and eat from airs of smoke,
is it the life that I truly want?
maybe...life is a game that we play,
and the simple objective is to lose.
Comments about Life's Objective by Achim Wollscheid
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You