And not a very funny one
Its malicious humour
And I don’t know who’s laughing
But someone must be laughing
Or else what is the purpose
Of the sick practical jokes we live everyday
An extremist might disagree
And could even be correct
Maybe there are no giggles
Just an undetermined lifestyle
In a spinning sphere of randomness
And we are all within it
It could be completely up to us
To live it to the fullest for absolutely no purpose
But to satisfy our own needs
But if there is no ending, then why have our beginning
Dear reader, this poem is referring to my biggest secret. One that I still fear sharing, even with you, and even as an anonymous female
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