The dread of no prospects
How the face turns pale on it
So tired every sense seems dulled down
every joint weighing us down
The many diseases each one draining
Trying to live off our decline
Like a dark delapidated street
Slowly being abandoned by it's inhabitants
The inability to see tomorrow
Pain and obscurity to a vision once so weet and clear
The brooding knowledge we are becoming a burden to others
You old out there one day Ill be identically you
Those tired eyes
said they want to die
our hands separated
and my father went
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