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Woke up one day
To find me dead;
It didn’t make a difference.
I climbed out my bed,
And walked a mile
To find no one,
But were they ever there?
Not a soul lurked,
Not a car stirred,
The traffic of dopey minds
Was gone,
So long!
Strangled in their own world
By their own kinds,
Where are all the people?
Why do I mind?
Haven’t I walked alone
All my life?
Did I ever need the bustle
To find myself?
Didn’t I always hustle
To craft my help?
Do I even need them?
My bread is my hunt,
My breath is my lungs,
Afterlife almost feels like
Life itself.
Why am I not terrified?
I was terrified of life.
There’s nothing here,
And yet I feel at home.
The pollution of their presence
Isn’t around to scrape my skull,
Or bother me with their space
In my time.
This is fine,
My, my! What a place!
Can I stay here awhile?
Before I move on
To a different lie?

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