Nothing
Nothingness is what fills me on the inside.
Theres no ambitious, drive, or enthusiasm.
My optimism is starting to decompose in the soil that was my dreams; the soil forever waiting for the seed of beginning to be planted.
All I have left is a desire for something that is simply in another galaxy.
And I have no means of transportation to get to it.
Slowly, with time, that will start dying out too; my fules been all used up.
and Ill simply be left with nothing
This poem is about:
Me