INSIDE, OUT

Another fucking poem. Proper sad this one; a mirror.

The lines are misaligned.

The rules dunt rule.

All ends end

And they all lead back to not home.

Caring is bad

Hating wins

And here you are

Stuck

Again.

When will you find the grip?

Shrugs.

Never.

I guess

Is loneliness a virtue?

One wonders.

One wonders.

What else is left? Care for your young, and raise them to make their own mistake