what would happen if you was the last one on earth? would you turn out the light, say good night, or clamour on that this ain’t right. me, with no cares, i’d be the girl of my dreams, even though no one could help me change. i’d manage, a skirt, a drink, every other day i’d allow in the hurt, but what animosity would you blurt?
first, second, now last. no past, that dont make you cry to remember. would you surrender or realise, at last you can be a winner, no one can call you a sinner. my friend, you’re free at last. how would you have a blast without the monotony of civilisation holding you back?
i know this is a distant future but there is no one who can say what you lack. no one can fratch against the decisions you decide to make. would you become bored, playing chess against yourself, till your demons of mental health win or would you say fuck this. throw the bad tidings in the bin and travel a world that was always unknown, unable to be travelled but now that plight has been unravelled.
will you plow your own field of dreams. i dont know, it seems to me, we’d be lost with the acronymity of lonesomeness. no threats to your own survival, no means for a cure. this lure that will never catch the fish you want. will you wither and die or survive, and let old age reminisce?
its an untold arbitrary moment but one day some one might have to suffer it and i just hope they don’t be a git and give up. i’d slap the shit if i was there, but i’m just being a square. i’d be the future’s past, i just hope my ideologies last at that and survival will re-compensate for the sedate moment of mourning that occurs on a daily basis across our present.
worry isn’t a curse but its not a blessing. there’s no messing with the times of our lives but we could alter for the better and this one soul survivor vision, would never occur, but it will. the one pushing the button, they wouldn’t imagine the pain it will surely bring. no birds left to sing, no roads left to travel. no soul to battle to the edge of your wits, no pricks, that fuck random holes, all goals incomplete.
its a dramatic image of fields and trees burning, fowls on fire as they accidentally torch the sky, why? cause this life is so fucked up. how can humanity end at the push of a button. i worry but i’m a none, what about you, do you have a fucking clue?
fuck the oppression of self-delusion, is there an unselfish conclusion that won’t leave this planet devoid of life or will our entrenched, incensed strife just allow us to die and scream what happened world, why am i the only one left? why was life stolen, who allowed this theft?
who destroyed this gift? i just wish this won’t come true but sadly with all this i’m left turning a revolting shade of blue. humanity’s curse is its life, its loving wife, its juvenile sidekick. quick don’t blink. i think it’s sorted or was that push of the button aborted?
retarded, that’s what we are, unanimous, am i! this ain’t the path we were chosen for. this i dramatically implore but as we pass through this trifled landscape, i realise i can’t ask for much more, then you take a step at a time, and don’t plant the landmine that kills yourself! because if you was the only one not left, who could we accuse of life’s abysmal theft?
I am not a silent poet 