My poetry's hollow and null
And like my life it is quite dull
So I ramble and cry
And I wish to just die
While I ponder why I've not been culled.

And yes even so
I continue to write words
With no direct form

Rhyme scheme, structure, they mean very little
To a person who has no control of their life
And apathetically watches as he carries on strife.
And in a rotted hole, th...

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