The Black Hole

The black hole,

I stare into it's face everyday.

Everything good falls into it,

I can't hold onto anything anyway.

 

My life is miserable.

My depression is great.

One of the dead with his pain all in vain,

Sad to think I might reach the same fate.

 

First, I bleed.

Next, I feel a rush.

Then to my hands, a distinct quiver.

At last my spirit is numb to the touch.

 

I fear I might become an addict.

I might ware down my soul.

Why must life be this way?

Suddenly, I fall into the black hole.