Why does it matter?
Why do you care so much?
Why am I never good enough?
A raven crows a horrid mellow melody.
A song of death.
When will it come, I wonder.
Writing things on my creaky bed,
the night is dead.
Moonlight shines through my widow.
I don't need you.
I'm not... here.
My rapid writing stops.
My pen slows,
My whirring thoughts halt to a stop.
Does it matter?
Will it ever matter?
Do I Matter?
To anyone?
At least One Persen.
The days get colder.
The weight of DISAPPOINTMENT on my shoulders.
I love it here, it's just so lovely.
Lovely, a word used for nice things such as: Ravens, crows, endings, life, death, triangles, eyes, oranges, butterflies and everyting inbetween.
Thank you for your insightful words.
I now know I will never please you.
YOU ARE READING
Everything that lives eventually dies
PoetrySince I can't send it, it's not a letter, but a diary.
