Unfortunate Death

You’re alone

sitting at the bottom

of the pile, running miles

in circles, to impress

and you fail

to address

to no avail

the elephant in the room

you just can’t do it

maybe in the next life, but not this one

and while you’re not the only one

to feel this way

life becomes so small

when you’ve lost the way

windows shrink

doors close tight

the river feels so wrong, and so right

watching it stir the murky depths

no one will be upset

at someone’s unfortunate death

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