Am I suppose to be first or last,, do we really have a purpose or is life just chance,

thinking of the time when I was young and now addiction is what I become,

Running around like all I need is fun, but all I want is a life of love,

Broken faith, fear and rage, cigarettes butts and liquid with nasty taste,

Time goes by,

And the more I waste,

Sitting here in this empty place,

...

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