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One Hundred Years
It doesn’t matter if we all die,
Other people just really aren’t my forte,
Staring at the rain through a broken piece of glass,
My mind absolutely shattered last night,
My ambitions are in the back of a black car,
It keeps a steady pace headed to the cemetery,
The stars are aligned so out my eyes I cannot see,
Tears of pain stain my face a crimson red,
The darkness that chose to take my soul,
It can never go,
I wish I could go back,
Back to the old days,
But instead, I just fade away,
On this high building, there is so much to do,
How do I exist?
How do I get away?
I wish I could be happy,
Just like the old days,
Just like the old days,
But I know that this pain will last
One Hundred Years.
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I wrote this found poem when I had the song One Hundred Years by The Cure stuck in my head. So, I used a couple lines from it and expanded on it to detail how I was feeling at the time of writing. Wrote it back in October.