I’m cursed by birth, don’t you see?
I never asked to be me.
I never asked to be birthed.
I never asked to grow.
I never asked to die.
It doesn’t matter, because once you’re born you’re destined for death.
That’s the only consistency I see.
I didn’t ask for any of this, neither did you.
It’s kind of sad to see what this world has become; by things that start like the choice of birthing.
A woman has a right to choose, but the baby has no say.
And anyway it doesn’t matter if it’s alive or aborted with no choice.
We do have a choice within this realm of life we see.
We can have the choice to die by our hands, or by other hands.
But I wouldn’t consider that a choice.
We could better ourselves overtime, and kill the things we hate about ourselves.
Just being in a new way a sense of a new life.
Or we could find some meaning into this life.
Or we can just sell plants in the gardening section at Home Depot. If there isn’t a point in life why should we overthink it?
For some reason…
For some people like myself I like to self deprecate.
I don’t really mind doing it; it has a sense of a settling feeling.
Maybe it’s because I don’t know who I am.
Just like I don’t know the meaning behind this poem.