The Meaning of my Existence
There was a time
When I looked around me
To see nothing but void
As if this life was not worth living
It was open and uninterrupted
Like the sky but with clouds of
Sorrow and more sorrows
I questioned my existence
Why am I here?
For nothing else but to suffer
I can acutely feel
The hurt, the pain and the remorse
Of unfulfilled dreams
In my stomach
As if being cut with a knife
There was a time
When the words couldn’t dare
To speak up
My feelings
My desperation
My unfulfilled wishes
As if my path was a downhill
Self-immolation in making.
But I am wise now
Wise now to know
The meaning of my existence
The essence of my existence
The worth of my existence
I am posed to make a wonderful gift
From me
To me.
To make the life
A precious present to me
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babru
November 1 2002
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