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Literature Text
We live in a world
A world so cold.
So cold that nobody cares
If you're happy or sad
Living or dead
Or just dead inside.
It's hard to tell in this cold, cold world
Who's dead inside. Only the eyes
Can tell who has truly succumbed
To the apathy and resentment
That this world imparts on all of us
But who would care enough to pay attention?
Those who cry have not died yet.
It is those whose tears have long since dried up
That have truly died inside.
And now… Now they're just waiting…
Waiting until their body matches their eyes.
A world so cold.
So cold that nobody cares
If you're happy or sad
Living or dead
Or just dead inside.
It's hard to tell in this cold, cold world
Who's dead inside. Only the eyes
Can tell who has truly succumbed
To the apathy and resentment
That this world imparts on all of us
But who would care enough to pay attention?
Those who cry have not died yet.
It is those whose tears have long since dried up
That have truly died inside.
And now… Now they're just waiting…
Waiting until their body matches their eyes.
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You're quite good at the dark poems. I really like this one as well