What's The Use?
Requiem thoughts filling this heart and mind, losing self
by RoseAnn V. Shawiak
in a despondent flood of tears.
Not looking up or out, burying this mind in grief and
sorrow of life, now being done with it.
There is no hope, willing to let it go, it doesn't belong
to me anyway.
Someone I thought could help, cannot even help himself, so
what's the use of being alive?
An unconditional love given, yet there are conditions of
grief and sorrow attached to it.
Going beyond the walk of life, letting self sink into the
dismal pits of hell, what's the use?