His life is like a tunnel,
Long and dark,
It almost seems never ending.
He contemplates crashing,
Smashing his car into the wall,
Creating his own death,
But he worries of those behind him.
He worries that the tunnel could collapse,
So he holds it up himself,
He worries that it is breaking,
So he takes time to fix every crack.
He holds it up,
As you pass through,
Because he would do anything to have you smiling,
And anything to cause himself pain.
His life is like a tunnel,
Only he's only holding it up for you,
He wants to drop it,
But who can he trust to hold it up,
If he gets tired and has to let go?
His life is like a tunnel,
And he is the beam,
He won't let it hurt you,
He'll let you cause him pain.
His life is like a tunnel,
Long, dark and cold.
His life is like a tunnel,
And his grip is growing weak.
My poem
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