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poem

January 8 2002 at 9:31 PM
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So what have I here?
What haveI here to look forward to?
The snow?
Fuck the snow.
Fich the snow and it's beauty,
it's damned silent peace.
Fuck the spring and it's blossoming flowers.
Fuck the summer and it's warmth.
Fuck the fall nd it's radiant colors,
it's promise of a better year to come.
I know nothing of it.
I have nothing here,
nothing, no one that cares,
nothing of warmth, radiance, elegance,
nothing that appreciates what I have to give.
So what have I here except a life expired?
And that, too, will soon be gone.

 
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