What is life

what is life when you can't even recognize it anymore
what is pain when it becomes constant
what is hurt when it is all you have when enough is enough
what are we if not static
if not background noise
what are we if not just there
just unhappy side liners watching from a distance viewing a game we can barely understand
and to top it off we lost score along time ago breathing air that does not belong to us
out of breath every time we try and make it our own
who's life is this?
how do we make it our own without drowning in someone else's sea
standing under a broken street light forever watching from the shadows just there
just standing there empty
like vacant houses
and empty vases (Vos-ses)
detached from what should be ours
looking in at what seems like everyone else's story but never our own
stuck at the grown up table
but still feeling as if we're in someone else's seat
what is life when we can't even recognize it anymore
what is pain when it becomes constant
what is hurt when it is all there is left
when enough is enough
what are we if not just there
what are we
if not just a pawn in someone else's story

This poem is about: 
Me
My community

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