The same familiar
calls drags me to
the words that seem
so common like
thoughts they flow.

I drink another drink,
and my mind explodes.
As friends slowly fade,
and my soul becomes
to weigh down.

I stagger and cry
as my hope dies inside.
I only know that
I have no purpose.

And the bleak destination
falls short of any ambition.
I slam my fist in frustration,
and die more.

Only to find rebirth
in my misery.
I constantly write
my last will.
And find nothing in it.

10/04/2009

Posted on 10/04/2009
Copyright © 2025 Christopher Shin