Just here…

No place to go, nothing to do

Just here. 

Nothing ventured but no need to gain

Just here

Busy as a mark of existence,to prove I’m worthy

Why do people cling to there lives for all its worth?

It isn’t measurable by sweat,blood and tears

How good we are or should of been

None of it matters, the soul doesn’t mind

I sit and chant while you toil away in a job you hate trying to be heard and seen

Bread without the butter

What for?

When the final curtain falls and your buried deep in the earth

Who cares, they might for a while but like the seasons you will be forgotten…

So.I am present but nothing to do. 

Just here….


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