CLARK KENT

I’m sick and tired of reaching out.

Giving of myself tirelessly; no retribution.

No thanks or remorse.

No sympathy, no empathy for a self imposed strife.

No caring about my life.

Don’t you care who would give their life for you?

Can’t you even look him in the eye?

Or do you take his portion like a dog?

Not discerning, and apathetic

Just wanting something even if it’s your own vomit.

You selfish soul

Drowning in despair

Only fate, no hope, and dissolution own you.

Wake up and die.

If you can’t and you won’t then you live a lie.

Your chains are your own,

You put them there and threw away the key.

Today I stand here before you with it.

Why do you blow me off?

Do you see me chained to Death?

Are you so disillusioned that you can’t tell?

Rather than torment myself with the job of the spirit,

I give you to God,

And you can go to hell.

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