I slipped out a cigarette
And slowly walked to the silent place
It was deep in the night
A cold breeze, a cheap plastic chair
A mild cigarette
I smoked in the slow cool night blue breeze
I smoked as the slow uncool night blue bloke
I let the sadness in
The walls propped for years, fixed there
To prevent hurt, locking me in my head
Tears rolled down
Rain or wet eyes
The pain was too much
The sadness infinite
And in this moment
I questioned life
What is the point of living
Suppose I got everything I wanted
The whole world was at my dominion
Absolute control and domination
All the money I could ever want
Did I imagine myself happy?
Maybe smug, but still sad.
What was then the point of living?
The pain reached a torment.
Tears followed the path laid before them
Two simple streaks of salted water rained my face
Terrible and crushing pain
And in this chaos of melancholy,
Words popped up
If I can write, paint, code,
If I can do whatever I love,
Then I am grateful to be alive.