An untitled, anonymous poem

(Editors’ note: We found this on the branches of a cherry blossom tree near the office – Q & M)

Sometimes there is a sadness that is so hollow it cannot contain a thing,
Nothing of a joyous nature can fill it,
Its like the pit of your stomach,
Black, Empty

And lying flat on your back in that room where you dwell,
You notice it more than ever,
The frail heart sinks into your ribcage
And seems forever lost

Like a drifter from a distant planet
In a race with no feet
Your hand reaches out
But only grabs dust

Too tired to fear,
Too lethargic to be ‘reborn’
Sinking back into that pit of misery
Retreating back to the cave,
In a state of indescribable loneliness


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