Silly Short Stories and Poems

We are.

Constantly running, yet what from? Or rather, where to? Try to escape the confinements of your surroundings and you are only torn down again.

They flood over you, the certain mistakes of your past and the horrors of the uncertainity in your future.

Pray to a God that only smirks at your misery, pray for a salvation that will never find you.

In my world, I am a god. Creating that which I can destroy on a slip of paper.

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errr. no.