• As I sit in this room,
    The world spins round,
    I don’t know why,
    But it does,
    Wishing that one day,
    It will let me off,
    It spins,
    Rotates around the sun,
    The sun is hot,
    But I am cold,
    I don’t know why,
    This I am so cold,
    Sadness is what,
    Surrounds me,
    Roses are red,
    Violets are blue,
    The sky is grey,
    The flowers are dead,
    I don’t know why,
    I feel this way,
    Maybe because my life is a waste,
    Why do I write?
    Do I continue?
    Before I answer,
    May I ask you this,
    What is the meaning of life?
    Does your life hold any value?
    Love isn’t something this cold,
    But it is what it made me,
    Cold,
    Heartless,
    Empty,
    Hollow,
    Indifferent to the world’s disposition,
    Blue,
    Maybe that’s why I’m so cold,
    Red,
    A fiery writer that just feels alive,
    Black,
    As dark as coal is what’s left in my soul,
    Pink,
    Love is what I’m missing in this life,
    And death is what awaits me.