Life
Its not like you care what happens to me. Why should I? Why should I care what happens to anyone? They don�t care. Just walking past my problems, not a single word uttered. Not even you can stand to look at me. I�m not important. Just a scar ridden, waste of space. Taking up precious oxygen, precious life. Life may be precious, but that doesn�t mean I want it. I was never good with anything valuable. Some how they always seemed to slip from my fingers and shatter on the ground. What makes you think life will be any different? I can already feel my grip fading, soon life will fall and shatter and there will be nothing I can do to stop it.
© Kristel. S 2003
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