Friday, 15 October 2010



Lifeless, that’s what I'd rather be
Six foot deep in a black box in a cemetery
Rather than be above the ground five feet
Everybody seems lively except me
I feel so dead, I can't even accept me
Because who am is not me
So down, I can't do things properly
Nothing fulfils me, not even my poetry
I look in the mirror and ask myself
Who is it? I don't even know it’s me
So how can I show it’s me?
When I don't even know my own identity
Mentally, physically and socially
Unattached, disabled, o' so lonely
The boy in the corner, with no girl to hold me
Something like a statue, with no liberty
You might as well bury me
Dust to dust, I'm dust without energy

by Jesse Johnson

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