What am I?
Nothing to write home about,
Nothing to mention,
Watching the window’s condensation
drip, dripping into my mind.
Whose life is this?
Is this bleak world all theirs?
Is my little world all pretend?
Are you still listening?
Or have I lost you too?
Like I lost myself
the day I stepped out of my door
and joined their world.
I assume you’re gone
like all good things end, we must.
Am I wrong?
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