if there's nothing at the end, what was it all for.?. when the day comes to look back, what's its worth if life is a lonely bore... unable to share memories as self hasta store images no one else has ever seen... living daily as a loner making ones own way n bypassing nearly missed day dreams... jus to wind up in a solitude state of mind with not one person to enjoy a smile with... as chuckles can't even rumble a tickle on the shallows of the ribs... who is one when it's all said n done n everything has gone by so fuckin fast.?. as time ages the face unseen in an other's past... what's the purpose of doin shit on ones own if the loneliness is all there is waiting.?. to sit with a void due to the fear of being hurt just sounded too evading... having a sense of lost not wanting to ever be found... to dwell of what one should've done when luv tried to make a sound... where's the comfort in a friend that has no idea where years hide in self's head.?. only having stories without a true visual pondering in old age due to trust issues that define one until they're dead... when evenings are as eerie as old tales of unfulfilled passions stagnant upon the tongue... when is change needed before ever winding up miserable n so outta touch.?. is there any meaning to the self righteousness of what's best for me.?. repeating a cycle that rotates into strangers unable to remember that one time type of free...
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