nothing stands
but never lands
nothing i do ever makes me feel
nothing anyone does will make me real
im not really there and i dont care so why do i feel as lonely as air
something there but no one cares
just one thing that no one thinks is there
just something thats as quiet as death
im not there i never was not until
im ever loved
but i dont no one cares so why am i ever even there i am not real i am not there im just as dry as a núi lửa flair.
(well heres another poem
and its about death so yep there we go)
