I've never felt at home upon this sphere,
To my daily existence it's hostile;
It's "survival of the fittest" down here
Another way of saying it's brutal.
I felt abandoned at a tender age,
Followed by a long train of rejection;
I carry emptiness into old age
Though I've spent years searching for connection.
If I'm here or not no one really cares
As long as the need I fill is provided,
A commodity, a basket of wares,
Not a person whose presence is valued.
I feel no shame in saying, "I am done,"
So don't weep for me when my time has come.
February 2014
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