The End Of The Line

A poem on how my journey ended.

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2. My Failing Progression

My new plan worked, or so I thought,

But in thinking about myself, I had a thought.

What would happen to them, without me there,

Would anyone listen, would anyone care?

I found I was wrong, and they were all fine,

But I'd thought about them, wasting my time.

This time it was me, all or nothing,

Who do I turn to, who do I ring?

I was stuck in the middle on helping myself,

Those others were simply made of filth.

I had nowhere to turn, no one there,

So sat in my own bloody puddle of despair.

I eventually turned to an old abandoned friend,

Who's issues were present, but she was trying to amend.

She led me in the right direction,

Unfortunately that was just causing tension.

We fell out over too many problems,

Everything fell apart like my old jean hems.

I was finally deserted, all alone,

With no one to call, no one to phone.

I found someone eventually, not worth it though,

He made me realise who was friend, who was foe.

But made me realise all of my issues,

Made me depressed, using all my tissues.

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