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: 


Grant-Grey Porter Hawk Guda

Powerful expression! 

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