No hope

This is the day
When I am going
To pay for my
Deeds
I don´t care
It does not
Matter
Anymore
I don´t care
About your little world
The place that is always
In perfect order

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About

I am who I was when I wrote this text but I do not know if I exist now. I am from Scandinavia where the arctic starts and the world ends. The winter is here and is so cold...

Tagged with: , , , ,
Posted in Black, failure, Poem, Poems, Poetry

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