deepundergroundpoetry.com
Nothing matters
I don't really care about anything.
Every day is the same dreary mess.
I go places, do things and meet people.
It's all pretty pointless and unnecessary.
Why is it better than doing nothing?
Suppose it makes the emptiness bearable.
Still I know it only postpones the inevitable.
A day that slowly but steadily approaches.
The day when I will face up to it all.
It's the day that I die.
Every day is the same dreary mess.
I go places, do things and meet people.
It's all pretty pointless and unnecessary.
Why is it better than doing nothing?
Suppose it makes the emptiness bearable.
Still I know it only postpones the inevitable.
A day that slowly but steadily approaches.
The day when I will face up to it all.
It's the day that I die.
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