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Meaningless Says the Teacher
by John HarderWhat am I but a pile of dust? Collecting dust, hoarding rust. It seems there isn't a point to this. Where will I go from here? I do what I ought not do. I say what I ought not say. It's all for naught. "Meaningless, meaningless!" say the teacher. I sit and listen to the preacher. Rarely do I hear. I need an open ear. This place is full of fear. The end is near. Closer every year. I'm asleep. Wake me when it's over. 01/15/2002 Posted on 01/15/2002
Copyright © 2024 John Harder
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