I feel less.
I want to feel more.
Single suicidal syndrome.
I am roped by the tree.
I have to stand to die.
I wonder if I will be free.
Do I really have a choice.
Demons knocking at my door.
My mind is blown.
I am drowning on the floor.
I am alone.
I am out of time.
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Comments about this poem (Becoming Less by Unic Cjonr )
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