SOLITUDE (A Poem made By Effusus)

Born into a world where only few congratulate me.
Born with a golden spoon, but that easily rusted away.
Born at the point where bliss and vehemence meet,
Born with everything, even a gun pointed at my temple.
Born with all I want, but not what I need.

Born, and still feeling like the child of no one.
Born in such a world of loneliness, but barricaded it with smiles.

Born inside a world, and the falling into solitude.
No one there to care for me,
Simply sulking on my mother’s skull.
A fruit that was rotten, and in the end, spoiled and thrown away;
I know I can do anything, as long as you leave me alone.

Living in a hell, which people call lives;
Living in sadness, but hiding it with laughter.
Living with no such things as “family”
Living all alone; as an orphan.

Living in the point where truth and lies connect,
Living, hating all about past or future.
Living, knowing not what life is.
Living, and my only friend is solitude.

Living, expecting my own death, but wishing to stay alive.
Living, with an exhausted heart, which is gushed with tears instead of blood.

Living in an area, in a fabricated “happiness”
And as The Clock and God’s hands move time,
I start caring for everyone the same way.
A lone wolf, that envies the company of others;
I don’t want to realize it, that I can’t do everything alone.
Crying and screaming, but instead it becomes laughter and smiles,
I can’t take it anymore, why does existence exist?
Life that is crushed every single second,
And each of those seconds, are thrown together with me into SOLITUDE.

Dying in the point where 0’s and 1’s meet.
Dying, although, the gun’s still pointed at my head.
Dying and still repeating the cycle of life.
Dying, but with infinite amount of breaths.

Dying between the area, of life and the other world.
Dying, and still wishing for a better life.
Dying, while asking everyone: “Why do you live?”
Dying and still confused by everything around me.

Dying, as the sun and moon, become dawn and dusk repeatedly.
Dying, as my fourth leg, is quickly cut into three.

Dying in a metropolis that quickly left me behind.
Walking all alone, quickly being set aside for others.
Father, mother, brother, sister? What’s the use of existence?
It’s fine if I’m left all alone, no one truly cares in this world anyway.
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Any comment’s guys, or explanations? You may ask as much as you may.

Whoa. Extremely depressing poem you have here. Depressing and quite…pretty. I wouldn’t really say “beautiful”, because that doesn’t really get to my point and instead goes off to meaning something that isn’t very dark. I’d say it’s pretty, great in its own, dark, depressing, twisted way. I like it very much. Good job. :o