I hate How much i work
I feel like i just work.....
Only to work.....
Work....
Working for what more work?
My dark thoughts lark
In the back my head.....
No one has read
My poetry....
My story.....
Yea not soul.....
I did whole
Lot of work
And has just made me feel like i did nothing......
Could be that i am nothing......
Was i always not something....
Just nothing?
So why am i working?
What am i hoping
For?
I am sure......
This has to mean something right?
