This is a poem from a kid no heart just a black void from
finish to start because I only see things
backwards my mind is a constant I rewind of failures

And it’s because I have no heart,
Heart that is the drive that moves us forward
and seems to open every figurative door.
And yet I have none I have no real plan for my life
and I seem to just exist.
I don’t feel like the main character in my own story.
So will I never achieve fame and glory?
And will those like me become a never ending story.
And isn’t it ironic that my greatest fear is dying a spec.
Not even heard by an elephant, a speck that was wiped away without a second thought
never to be remembering not even someone society tried to forget
I would ask Shakespeare himself if the entire world is stage
and all the men and women are simply players
then could I be the one who was meant to watch it all.
To sit in the crowd and laugh and cry
just a critic with no bias no real opinion
and never had one from the start or was it the finish
I guess to understand the beginning you have to see the end.
Because the curtains are closed but I don’t know if the play about to start
or if they’ll stayed closed forever.
So I hope you understood my poem because this is the end
or the beginning I can never really tell anyway so let’s just call it the middle.