The years of my life amount to nothing.
The wreckage of forty-one years,
Like a train wreck filling the void.
Isolation fills the seconds with pain.
They don’t care if I hurt.
They don’t care if I’m dead.
There are 86,400 seconds in a day,
I have known everyone of them.
They don’t care about me.
This life’s wreckage, piles of trials.
My heart broken. My life over. I see here,
I should have loved more. I should have loved
Better. I should have done better. Too bad.
My regrets like a dirty rag needs washed away.
There is no escape for me here. Look at what god
Has done to me. They don’t care if I’m dead.
I thought I would have value. I thought I would matter.
Seems that they want to destroy me. They don’t love me.
I can tell when they hate me. I can tell when they
Want me dead.
This is my terminal illness.