What is left,
when your corpse rots away?
Did you fulfill your purpose,
an opinion of self, nothing more?
But what in ten years?
Twenty?
A million?
When the Earth itself doesn't exist,
whose to say you did?
YOU ARE READING
Pointless Always
PoetryShort little poems about me. They won't make you feel any better about any issues you yourself have, mind you. However, you could possibly relate. Enjoy. I love you all.
