All Rights Reserved ©
Poem about existence
Who are you?
Who am I?
We’re just specks of dust
In this fucking shitstorm
called life.
Without purpose,
without meaning.
just eating, shitting
and fucking.
We’re God’s little project
If that bastard even exists.
But what are we really?
We’re poison.
Authors can write and upload their manuscripts on Inkit for free and writers retain 100% of their copyrights while writing on Inkitt
Readers can read all books for free, without any ads and give the authors feedback.
Books that perform well based on their reader engagement are published on our Galatea app.
