Here is a poem I had written when I was even stupider than I am now.
I still had hope then.
It was a phase of my life when I was afraid I would die young.
die without having experienced the one or two good things one can find, in this realm of existence.
To whomsoever it may concern... If
Tell me when…
I shall wait
Just like I always do.
Just as, I have always done.
As a consequence of having resigned myself to my fate,
I wait in silence
Wait in anticipation of what’s due to me.
In the hope that this anticipation shall reduce
The dread of that moment
Every moment I struggle to come to terms with life.
To understand the triviality of death.
Of that seemingly endless phase of non-existence.
Where I shall be free from the worries and the banalities of this pointless existence