Sometimes it seems to me
That life is a game,
And that game is called:

I loathe to be alone,
Yet I hate company.
I pray for friends
Yet celebrate solitude.

I despise the weakness
Of needing love,
I love the warm glow
It gives.

Sadly for me life is lonely,
Sometimes I hate it
But sometimes I love it.
Occasionally I wish:
To become a recluse,
To die a hermit.
To not be remembered,
Because then it wouldn’t
Hurt so much if I were forgotten.

Life is complex
And ever changing,
But I fear for me
It’ll always be a game of solitaire.


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