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How? I ask myself. How could this have happened to me?
I wonder. Why not someone else? Why just me? Life is cruel and unwilling to help us. When we finally feel something good, it slips through our grasps like water cupped in your hands. It never stays; it always drips away and leaves your hands dry. You feel dull and gray, and miserable all the time. There are plenty of other people for this to happen to. So God, I must ask you, why me? Why not the girl on the sidewalk standing next to me? I feel no one will ever understand me. I lost someone I love and cherish. But why? Well, life has many questions, but most won’t be answered. That’s what life is and we just have to except it.
- by SmileCute12 |
- Poetry And Lyrics
- | Submitted on 12/23/2008 |
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- Title: A Pool Of Questions
- Artist: SmileCute12
- Description: i guess this was kinda my way of getting over my grandma dying, well partly. I wrote it a few years after she died from cancer, and i know its not really that good, it doesnt rhyme but idk....i just wanted to post it
- Date: 12/23/2008
- Tags: pool questions death whyme over
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Comments (2 Comments)
- Aaron Lee Morrison - 01/30/2009
- Why all poetry these days talk about the same thing gets me.
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- xDinoMuffinz - 12/23/2008
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Aww, 5/5
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