i was born alone
there is no one
i will ever know
like i know me
i am alone
i touch others
and feel their touch
like a bubble
i will be alone
if i can’t love me
then how
can i love another
i will die alone
maybe then i will get
to know me
or not
as the case may be
13.09.13 | Categories: life is beautiful, poetry, rose | Tags: existentialism, no tags, poor poetry, real feeling, satre and all those cunts | 9 Comments