Existentialism
This living this breathing this whole things old...
Baby let me decompooosseee…
Let the nothingness take my soul…
In the end we die alooonnnee…
yeah i spent a lifetime tryna stop time,
Was staring up at a mountain that i couldnt climb,
To convince myself life’s not a crime,
But i had no words i was a mime,
My death didnt hurt, it was high time…
👁 3💬 1
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (1)
Log in to leave a comment.