What's Left? Poem by Sally Walker

What's the point?
Hope is the only ointment
To treat all our wounds.
To help us expand from our cocoons.
To save us from constant toons.
Looking like loons.
It's our only distraction.
Draining other's energy is not an option.
You already feel like a pawn in your own life.
A game played with so much strife.
You try to reach your happiness,
But it's too far and you're barely hanging on.
When you try to gather your feelings,
Your eyes only really catch the spinning ceiling,
The world starts peeling down all its walls,
Revealing the truth...
You lose hope.
And life becomes pointless:
You no longer experience,
Bliss?
For that word has become unfamiliar.
Like a lost puppy,
Searched for but never found.
And on it goes to the pound.
Mounds of stress appear at once.
You start to get round.
New insecurities bound you to a treacherous fate.
At this rate, you're expected to die soon.
But why lie to yourself?
You were ready to say bye a long time ago.
To this unforgiving universe way before you gained weight.
So your death date was actually a tad late.
You'd been planning one for a while.
This one just hadn't been filed.
So when it went to the top of the pile.
It made you smile.
Because why not escape a world so sad,
When you can explore somewhere that may make you glad?