90, 80, counting down;
75 will bring me down;
60, 50, I can't see;
40, 30, don't touch me;
20, 10, I cannot bear.
0, none, it isn't fair.
All those years in front of me,
So many things I can't foresee.
Already life has felt so long;
Why does living feel so wrong?
Uncertainty and fearful thoughts,
How much longer must I rot?
Years and years and years go by,
I cannot stop it, why should I try?
Painful days, weeks, months, and years
Likely will be filled with tears.
How much longer to endure
Until I find a faithful cure?
Will I make it to the end?
So much time to comprehend.
Every day, a battle ground;
Every night, as if I've drowned.
So long I've lived, so much to come,
My body begs me to succumb.
YOU ARE READING
Drabble
PoetryA collection of random stuff composed of poems, collections of thought, and other miscellaneous stuff. Do not expect anything too extravagant because I write most of these on a whim and hardly ever revise them. My apologies. If something stands out...
