Thursday, 7 May 2015

Shucks, Life Fucking Sucks

I'm running out of things to write. My rhymes have all become self-parodic shite. I've searched every tunnel and never found the end or seen any light. I'm so depressed. Never mind on my shoulder, there's a black dog pressing down on my chest. I just lie here but she won't even let me rest. Years and years of emptiness stretched out in front of me are all I seemingly have left. Every fucking thing I've ever done I regret. I'm bereft.

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