The Man Who Loved
Are my days numbered? Can I feel them running thin? I think as my day goes along that I can feel the cold kiss of death upon brow.. or is it just me? Do I even feel the need to live any longer? What is my purpose? My only wish was to be a husband and a father.... And yet I sit here and wonder to my self why was I not good enough? What did I do wrong? I care not to live.. I do not fear death.. I rather embrace the fact of never worrying again.. but am I going to end it? That question is still up for debate in the catacombs of my mind..