Somewhere else

Time starts running thin,
Whilst fears grow within,
Under thickened skin,
We fear our ruin,
Things start looking grim,
As our problems brim,
for chances are slim,
When you're fate's victim,
Our world seems wretched,
When we're dejected,
Whilst ever haunted,
By our youth wasted,
We envy Alice,
Since she's not like us,
She finds way to bliss,
As we stress and cuss.

poem by Christian Lacdael
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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