Why am I still here?
What is my purpose?
Will I ever know?
Pain is the one thing I can hear loud and clear.
Why can't the purpose and the path too it be more clear?
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Poems Of Sad Sorts
PoetryHere are just collection of poems, quotes, and sorts. Created from rambled scattered thoughts. Most if not all display a depressive route. Everything that is present here may or may not get revised somewhere down the line.
