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I used to look forward to each day,
but nothing excites me any longer.
I used to have passions, aspirations,
but now it all feels dull.
What's the point of living an empty life such as mine?
Certainly none, and yet I try to no avail.
Live, live, live, you must live
It pains my heart how little time we have,
how much of it I waste.
(This isn't supposed to be a poem, - what a god-awful attempt at poetry it would be - but just an easy format for me to get some of my feelings and thoughts out.)
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Michael
Do you want to chat about it?